


Crimson Liquid

by Shadowolven



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood and Violence, Dismemberment, Gore, M/M, Manipulation, Masochism, Master/Pet, Mutilation, Sadism, Strangulation, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Vampire Bill Cipher, consumption of human flesh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:12:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6198169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowolven/pseuds/Shadowolven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pines family is a long line of vampire hunters. Mabel and Dipper Pines, as new additions to the Pines family, find themselves being sent to Gravity Falls in the summer to learn the trade from their experienced Great Uncles. However, they soon discover that Gravity Falls is far more dangerous than they originally thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Gravity Falls

The bus droned as it drove along the paved, winding roads, passing by the sign that said “Welcome to Gravity Falls!” Dipper was passed out on the bus, mouth hanging open as he leaned on his arm against the glass window. Mabel was also asleep, head on her twin’s shoulder, with drool dribbling off the side of her mouth. They had been sleeping peacefully since they boarded the bus, tired from having to wake up and leave Piedmont so early that morning.

They jerked awake from their naps, screaming with alarm as they flung off of their seats when the bus suddenly swerved.

“Ow!” Dipper exclaimed as he hit his head into the back of the padded seat in front of him, unable to control his momentum as the bus screeched to a halt. “What happened?” he mumbled angrily as he stood up, dazed and tired. He examined his surroundings. The bus seemed fine, with the exception of their suitcases and bags now scattered across the floor, so why did they suddenly stop?

Mabel groaned and rubbed the back of her head, having hit the adjacent seat when she fell into the aisle. She, too, looked around the bus curiously. “Maybe we almost hit a deer?” she grumbled, crawling back onto her seat beside her brother.

“O-oh geez!” exclaimed the bus driver as he pressed the button to open up the front entrance doors of the bus. He hastily unbuckled and stepped out of his seat. He glanced down the aisle, noticing the two young passengers staring at him with a bewildered expression. The man was stuttering as he apologized, “I-I’m sorry, kids, but I th-think I m-might’ve hit som—“

A figure suddenly leapt through the open doors of the bus, a large hand gripping the side of the stammering driver’s head. A simple “Huh?” and a wide-eyed expression was all the children heard and saw of the male before watching with horror as the inhuman figure slammed the unfortunate human headfirst into the wall of the aisle, leaving a bloodstained dent in the metal. The mysterious figure quickly leaned its face towards the unconscious driver’s neck and bit down, a trickle of crimson liquid oozing from the freshly-made wounds.

The children watched the scene with terror, stifling their urge to scream in shock so as to not be noticed by the ravenous beast. They quickly hid behind the seat in front of them, only able to hear the repulsive slurping sounds coming from the front of the bus.

“I-isn’t that a vampire?!” Dipper hissed to his sister, a fearful expression on his face.

“I think so,” Mabel whispered back, returning the expression. “And I don’t think it’s the hot, gentleman kind, either!”

“Mabel, this is serious! What do we do?!” Dipper started to hyperventilate, his anxiety levels rising rapidly which caused his heart to race while his mind swarmed with thoughts. They were trapped on the bus, a hungry vampire’s blocking the exit, and they’re probably going to be next and—

“Oh, I caught children, too?” said an unfamiliar voice from nearby. The two children quickly glanced upwards and froze in their seats, their pure brown eyes meeting with bloodthirsty crimson-red ones. The vampire grinned widely at seeing their horrified expressions, spreading its bloodstained lips across its face, revealing pointed fangs. “It’s been _so long_ since I’ve had _children’s blood._ ” It opened its jaws; a long, thin tongue rolled out of its mouth, wriggling hungrily in the air with irregular movements. The vampire’s eyes widened as it rose up its hands, or what would be more accurate to call “claws” since it had unusually lengthened fingers with sharp, elongated nails.

Dipper and Mabel trembled with fear, their little hearts beating rapidly as they hugged each other tightly. All they could do was look helplessly up at the vampire, pleading with their eyes for mercy.

A gunshot.

The vampire roared with pain, grimacing upwards as it rapidly disintegrated into ash.

The frightened twins cautiously looked down at the pile of burnt remains of their assailant before staring up to see the identity of their saviors. Standing at the front of the bus were two old grey-haired men, one of which who held a gun in his hands. Wisps of smoke was still rising from the muzzle.

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” the children exclaimed as they leapt off of their seats and tightly embraced their great uncles.

“Good thing we tracked that berserk vampire, eh, Sixer?” Stan asked as he rubbed the kids’ brown hairs affectionately, smiling at their relieved faces.

“Yes, but we wouldn’t have been so late if you hadn’t insisted on visiting Greasy’s Diner for breakfast,” Ford sighed as he pocketed his gun away and hugged the children.

“Hey,” Stan frowned, cheeks reddening a little as he pointed an accusing finger at his brother, “I’ll have you know it was for an important investigation!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ford rolled his eyes and waved a hand to dismiss the argument. He bent down over the unmoving body of the bus driver and began to examine the damages done.

Stan huffed and looked worriedly at the kids. “Sorry we were late,” he sighed, gazing downcast. “You kiddos are safe now.”

“That was _so_ cool!” Dipper exclaimed, surprising the older male in front of him. “I mean sure, it _was_ pretty scary almost being attacked by a vampire…”

“But we’re going to learn how to defeat them with PEWPEW AMAZINGNESS like what you guys just did, right?!” Mabel quickly interjected, making shooting-gun gestures with her index finger and thumbs as she enthusiastically danced around in the narrow aisle. Dipper laughed and looked up excitedly at Stan.

Stan rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled nervously, “Well, we _are_ going to teach you guys this summer…”

“It’s not all fun and games,” Ford interrupted sternly, approaching the children who quickly calmed down. “Vampires are dangerous and ruthless creatures. Usually, they’re not as violent as that one,” he pointed at the pile of ashes near the back of the bus. “But it’s because they have the potential to be that violent that you need to be prepared. Being a vampire hunter is a risky profession. A single mistake can cost you your life.”

Dipper and Mabel exchanged quiet glances at each other, feeling a little ashamed at having hyped up the wonders of their family’s vampire hunting trade.

Ford saw how guilty the children looked and sighed, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to deter you. I just want you kids to realize there’s danger involved with hunting,” he spoke quietly. He knelt down and placed his hands on each of the children’s shoulders. “If you understand the risks and still wish to learn our family’s proud heritage, then my brother and I will gladly teach you everything we know to make you full-fledged hunters by the end of the summer.”

The younger twins nodded enthusiastically and smiled. “We understand!” they chimed together.

“Good,” Ford said, returning their smiles as he stood back up.

Dipper glanced nervously back at the pile of ashes before looking up at Ford. He asked, “Grunkle Ford, do you know why that vampire… decided to attack us?”

“Well, we received an urgent report earlier this morning that someone near the entrance to the town had been attacked by a vampire. Judging by its actions, I presume it succumbed to its hunger and became what we like to call ‘berserk’ and went off on a feeding frenzy,” Ford replied, staring off into the distance. “Most vampires don’t kill their victims, since that is ultimately disadvantageous to the longevity of their species.”

“Kill?” Mabel asked, tilting her head to get a better look at the bus driver’s body that was lying face down on the floor of the bus. “So… does that mean he’s dead, then?” She pointed, frowning.

Ford nodded his head slowly. “Fatal head injury accompanied by lethal blood loss,” he responded solemnly.

The children glanced at the body before turning their sights away, letting silence pervade the interior of the vehicle for a brief moment. Dipper gently touched the side of his neck as he thought of how that could have been him, or worse. His sister could have been killed right before his eyes, and he wouldn’t have been able to do anything. He glanced over at Mabel, who was looking down at the ground. _I’ll protect you, Mabel._

“Well, uh, let’s get your stuff and head on over to the shack, yeah?” Stan asked, a little louder than necessary to interrupt the gloomy atmosphere. He passed by the sullen-looking children and picked up their fallen bags. Ford helped carry some of the baggages as the family disembarked the vehicle, walking along the paved road towards the Mystery Shack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, a proper introductory chapter to my first fanfic! ^-^ It's a bit short compared to everything else I have posted and planned, but I felt like it was an appropriate point to end the chapter at.
> 
> Also note: I plan on adding more tags and changing the rating at some point BECAUSE REASONS. Reasons you'll find out soon enough, hehe.
> 
> Updates every Tuesday!


	2. Coffin

It’s been almost a week since the young Pines twins moved into the attic room of their great uncles’ home, the Mystery Shack. They watched as Grunkle Stan brought in groups of people every morning to show them a tour of his fake exhibits located along the first floor of the shack. The children were surprised to discover that the tourists absolutely  _loved_  the tours and willingly shelled outrageous amounts of money just to be able to take pictures.

When asked about his con business, Stan merely replied with, “Eh, we need to get _some_ sort of income for groceries and other things.”

“Vampire hunters don’t get paid?” Dipper asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Not all the time, no. They’re more like highly recommended ‘donations’ for our services, which in my opinion is too much of a Samaritan deed for my tastes.” Stan rolled his eyes while gesturing quotation marks with his fingers. “But not everyone has enough money to pay the actual price of hunting, so we just swindle money from unsuspecting tourists instead.” He winked at the children before waltzing off, presumably to fetch the next gullible group for the tour that day.

The children had also asked Ford when they would begin with their vampire hunter training.

“We’re almost done preparing our training regime, so you’re going to have to wait for just a little bit longer,” the older male replied as he was organizing the bookshelf near the living room. “Are you two bored?” He curiously glanced over his shoulder towards the children behind him.

“Nope, I’ve been pretty entertained!” Mabel chirped as she slapped another sticker to her already sticker-covered face.

“Well, I’m _sorta_ bored… I mean, all we’ve seen is the shack and the town, but we haven’t really _explored_ the woods yet. What if there’s adventures that we’re missing out on?” Dipper nervously fidgeted with his hands as he looked expectantly up at Grunkle Ford.

Ford turned around and placed a hand on his chin, thinking. “Adventures, huh?” he mused. “Okay, then. You kids can go explore the woods and see if anything’s out there. But before you go, here, take these.” Ford walked over towards a nearby cabinet and took out a pistol and crossbow. He handed them to the kids who let out a quiet “oof” from the unexpected heavy weight of the weapons. “We haven’t had any real reports of vampire sightings for quite some time, so the woods _should_ be safe, but you can never be too careful. Use these if you can’t run away, alright?”

The twins smiled at each other with excitement before running off to pack up their backpacks. Dipper made sure to pack up a notepad with a working, partially chewed-up pen while Mabel cleaned off the stickers on her face and stuffed her bag full of candy. Once they had their supplies ready for their brief adventure, they yelled out, “Bye Grunkle Ford! Grunkle Stan!” as they stormed out of the shack and into the nearby forest.

“What do you think we’ll find?” Dipper asked Mabel enthusiastically, panting as they continued dashing past the tall trees and bushes.

“I don’t know!” Mabel replied gleefully before stopping and gasping. Dipper paused his momentum and looked at where Mabel was pointing, noticing a small glowing object in the near distance. “Is that a fairy?” she whispered excitedly.

Dipper squinted to try focusing on the flittering object. “Maybe! Let’s follow it!”

The twins giggled and ran after the mysterious flying object through the ever-darkening woods.

 

“Where’d it go?” Dipper asked, wheezing and steadying himself by a tree. They’ve been following the unknown flying object for quite some time, only to find it suddenly disappear from their vision.

Mabel also leaned against the tree and panted. “I-I don’t know,” she gasped, pulling out a butterscotch candy from her backpack. She popped it into her mouth and huffed, “If only we didn’t stop to check out those _really cool_ glowing mushrooms!”

Dipper chuckled and sighed, lifting up his white and blue baseball cap to wipe the sweat from his brows. “Yeah, but… ugh, we don’t even know where we are now.” He nervously looked around their environment. Which way was back to the shack?

“Hey, what’s that?” Mabel suddenly exclaimed, pointing off into the distance through the trees.

The boy curiously followed her keen eyes and noticed that the object she was referring to was a distant and old-looking wooden two-story house. His eyes lit up as his brain thought of the many mysteries and ghosts that could be haunting the place. “Let’s check it out,” he whispered to his sister. She nodded enthusiastically, and together, they walked towards the mysterious building as the sun set completely beneath the horizon, its last rays fading from the forest of Oregon for the day.

They stepped into the small clearing around the house and looked up at its rotting, decrepit state in front of the backdrop of dark blue skies above. Ivy vines crawled along the outside walls, its green tendrils poking into cracks and broken windows as it sought to conquer the manmade object. They gulped and warily glanced at each other, a sense of foreboding creeping up on them as they observed the pitiful state of the house.

“Should we go in?” Dipper hesitatingly asked.

Mabel shrugged and popped in another piece of candy into her mouth to calm her nerves.

They both had a bad feeling about this house for some reason, but they _were_ out on an adventure. What good is an adventure without a little bit of risk?

Dipper cautiously walked towards the rotted front door. He reached for the weathered, rusty door handle when the door suddenly creaked open of its own volition. Dipper squeaked nervously, flinching his hand back before peering into the dark, dank, and cobweb-filled interior.

“H-hello?” Dipper nervously called out, his voice wavering as he half-expected to see a ghost appear out of nowhere.

No response.

The twins took out their flashlights from their bags and turned it on while slowly tip-toeing onto the old floorboards of the house. It creaked loudly beneath their weight, threatening to break into pieces at any moment. They shined their light on dusty, antique-looking items sitting around the house. The furniture was surprisingly organized and probably would have been a cozy home to live in if it weren’t for its old, weathered age.

Mabel giggled as she noticed a dust-covered ceramic ornament of a pink little piglet on top of an equally dusty counter. “Dipper, look at how cute this is!” she whispered loudly to her nearby brother who was looking at a worn-out painting of a country landscape.

“Mabel, put that back! What if it’s some sort of booby trap?” he whispered agitatedly at his sister who was holding the ceramic object delicately in her palm.

“Oh puh-lease,” she scoffed, “You’re just being paranoid! Look at it, it’s just a wee little piggy, hehe!” She waved the object in front of Dipper’s face, who merely replied with a sigh and frown. Mabel pocketed the fragile object in her backpack before going back to exploring the house.

After some time while investigating, they twins became more fascinated with the mysterious environment than afraid. Dipper flashed his light along the ground and called out, “Hey, Mabel! Come check this out!” Mabel quickly caught up with him and stared at where he was pointing with his flashlight. Near the stairs leading up to the second floor, there was a trapdoor that had stairs leading down to what they presumed to be the basement. The entrance was completely covered by a thick web of spider silk.

“Eugh,” Mabel replied, a face of disgust as she saw the numerous corpses of shriveled insects dotted along the top of the web. “You want us to investigate what’s down there?”

“Yeah, I mean, houses this old _must_ have some _amazing_ secrets!” Dipper dropped a nearby loose plank through the trapdoor entrance, tearing the web as it clanked noisily on the concrete stairs below.

“If you say so, bro,” Mabel reluctantly followed after her brother who had already begun descending the stairs.

The corridor was narrow, barely enough room for the two of them to walk alongside one another if they so chose. As the descended, they quickly found themselves in a dark concrete room that was surprisingly devoid of any objects with the exception of a rectangular object in the center covered by a dusty tarp.

The twins curiously looked at the mysterious object, shining their flashlights on the cloth covering it up. They glanced up at each other with a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

“Could it be hidden treasure?” Mabel giggled quietly.

“Only one way to find out!” Dipper smiled as he tore off the tarp, a cloud of brown dust scattering into the air.

The twins coughed and waved their hands in front of their face, trying to clear away the airborne particles from their vision and breathable air. They squinted through the dust, and saw that the covered up object was a large, glossy black box with gold embellishments along its borders. A singular, golden triangle mark was near the front of the rectangular box, neatly in the center of the body-sized width of the container.

Dipper frowned, suddenly paranoid. “Mabel… is this… a coffin?” He nervously asked while staring at his twin. Mabel glanced up at her twin with a similar worried expression.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she mumbled.

“… Maybe we should leave,” Dipper hastily spoke, his anxiety rising as he suddenly remembered the vampire encounter they had on the way to Gravity Falls. “We don’t want to run into vampires. Or wake one up.” He proceeded to back out, only to trip on the tarp on the ground.

“Ack!” Dipper cried out as he fell onto his back, the concrete floor trembling just a little bit from the sudden impact on its weak, old structure. The twins suddenly tensed as they heard the lid of the coffin slide off, landing on the ground with a crack and dull thud that echoed in the empty underground room.

The twins scrambled a bit away from the open coffin, warily watching it in silence. They expected to see an arm raise up followed by a moan, stereotypical of the rising undead, but nothing happened. Cautiously, Dipper stood up and tip-toed towards the coffin.

There wasn’t anything remotely like a body to be found inside the human-sized box. Instead, he saw a thin, yellow triangular object on top of the silky white cloth that lined the interior of the coffin. Dipper raised a curious eyebrow as he observed that the object had on what appeared to be a bowtie on its center, along with a black top hat sitting neatly on the top of one of its angles.

Mabel, too, looked at it curiously. “Is that treasure?” she asked, watching Dipper cautiously lift it up in his hands with ease.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? It looks really weird, though,” he replied, turning over the thin, light object in his hands as he examined it. It looked pretty ridiculous, but also pretty cool. Maybe Grunkle Stan could use it as another attraction for the shack.

As he turned it back to the front where the bowtie was, the boy let out a yelp of surprise, letting go of the object. Instead of falling onto the ground, however, it hovered motionlessly in the air. The object now had a singular, white eye with a black slit pupil gazing down at the panicking boy.

Dipper and Mabel watched incredulously as the triangular object slowly transformed before their eyes, slowly growing limbs and body until it soon became more recognizable as a human adult male. He had a pale skin tone with long, golden-colored hair that was tied loosely behind, a black top hat sitting neatly on the top of his head. He was dressed in formal attire, wearing black slacks and dress shoes with a yellow tailcoat, a black bowtie below his collar.

The strange man stretched his arms upwards. “Mmm, such a _long_ nap,” he yawned, opening his yellow cat-like eyes to look down at the stunned boy a few feet away from him. He smirked, amused at the baffled expression he saw. “Man, though, this place sure looks pretty rundown, doesn’t it?” The figure mused while looking around the empty, dusty room filled with cobwebs.

Dipper quickly scrambled over towards his twin sister, an arm held in front of his sister’s stomach as they both proceeded to cautiously back away from the suspicious being. “W-who are you?” the boy nervously asked.

“Oh, where are my manners!” the figure laughed, his bright and grating voice causing the children to wince as it reverberated off of the walls. “The name’s Bill Cipher,” the human said, bowing down with a hand over his stomach and an arm outstretched to his side. He stood back up and wryly asked, “And you two must be… Pine Tree and Shooting Star, yes?” Bill smirked as he eyed the blue pine tree symbol on Dipper’s hat and the shooting star symbol on Mabel’s sweater.

Dipper and Mabel continued to slowly back away, wary of this strange person.

Bill closed his eyes and lifted up his head, sniffing the air like a cat. “Hmm, so that old coot really _was_ right… one of you smells average, but the other…” He snapped his head back down, eyes unnaturally wide open as he grinned, his voice pitch lowering, “… smells absolutely _divine!”_

Dipper trembled as he saw the hungry, glowing eyes locked directly on him. “Mabel, RUN!” The boy shouted as the twins quickly turned to dart up the trapdoor stairs. They shook away the cobwebs that clung to their panicked frames, their eyes only focused on the open door that led to the outside woods. Their feet rapidly pounded against the fragile, creaking floorboards as they sprinted towards the exit.

Bill swiftly appeared in front of the door, grinning at the children who skidded to a halt, fear written all over their faces. “Going somewhere?” he laughed, watching as Dipper quickly grabbed his sister’s wrist and ran up the flight of stairs leading to the second floor.

“Ack!” Mabel cried out as she stumbled over her feet, tripping on one of the steps as the quickly ascended.

“Mabel!” Dipper quickly turned around and hastily lifted up his sister. “Are you okay?”

“I-I think I sprained my ankle!” She began to tear up, beginning to panic as she felt like death was waiting for her, mere moments away. Dipper furrowed his brows and quickly glanced over his shoulder, seeing the tall figure slowly walk up the steps with an unnatural smile spread across his face.

“Come on, we’ll hide in that room over there,” Dipper whispered urgently as he placed Mabel’s arm around his shoulder. Mabel hurriedly limped with the support of her brother over towards the open room. She released herself from his arms and hobbled towards a nearby wall while Dipper shut and locked the door with its rusty bolts, shoving a nearby wooden dresser over the entrance for good measure.

Dipper set down his bag and fetched out the pistol, its bulky size unwieldy for his small, untrained hands. Yet, he would have no choice but to use it if that vampire barged in. He began to quickly scan the room, looking for an exit point for them. There was an open window, but how would he get him and his sister down?

There was a large thud against the door. “You kids think this flimsy piece of organic material will stop _me_?!” the maniacal voice cackled from just beyond the wooden door. Dipper and Mabel tensed and worriedly looked at the entrance, their anxiety levels rising. “It’s been _decades_ since I’ve last had anything to drink, and I won’t let THIS…” Bill slammed his foot into the wood. The door and dresser suddenly splintered into a myriad of pieces, scattering all across the room. “… Get in MY way of enjoying a meal when I see one!”

The crazed figure flashed a glance at each of the startled children located on complete opposite sides of the room. He quickly sprinted over towards Mabel, who had just retrieved her silver crossbow from her backpack. She squeaked in alarm as the figure suddenly appeared before her within less than a few seconds delay.

“Nope, you’re not the one…” Bill mumbled quietly, frowning. He slammed an arm into Mabel’s stomach with an incredible amount of force, hurtling her into a wooden desk near the wall. She coughed and let out a choked cry as she felt an impact first on her abdomen followed by an impact on her lower back. The desk easily shattered beneath the force and weight of her crashing into it.

“Mabel!” Dipper shouted, lifting up the heavy pistol and shakily aiming at the golden-haired figure. He pulled the trigger, but only heard a “click.” “Wait, what?!” he panicked, staring at the unresponsive gun in his hands. Was there no ammunition? Was it not loaded? How come this seems to work so easily in movies, but not now when it matters?!

Bill smirked at the boy's failed attempt and leapt upwards onto the ceiling.

Mabel coughed and retched onto the wooden floorboards, clutching her pained stomach. She struggled to lift her head up, her body weak and in varying amounts of pain. Her leg hurt, her whole back probably had cuts and splinters, and her stomach felt like it had just been rammed into with a cannonball. “Dipper,” she weakly muttered, wiping her lips clean with the arm of her sweater as she forced herself to stand.

She nearly fell back over, feeling extremely light-headed and weak, devoid of strength. Yet, she was determined to look out for her twin who was Bill's next target. Mabel quickly scanned the room, not seeing the vampire anywhere on the floor. She glanced up, and saw the blonde clinging to the ceiling like a spider, directly above her distracted brother. “Dipper, behind you!” she cried out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the story truly begins...


	3. Marked

“Dipper, behind you!” cried out Mabel from across the room.

A golden-haired figure landed gracefully behind the unfortunate boy. “Wha—“ Dipper began turning around, only to be stopped when a hand gripped his chin and another squeezed his right wrist, gripping with enough pressure to force Dipper to drop his weapon onto the ground with a clatter.

“Hello there, Pine Tree,” said an all-too-familiar voice, the figure grinning and revealing a set of long, sharp fangs.

“Bill,” Dipper hissed, reaching his free hand upwards to grip the hand pinning his head forward. “Let go of me!”

“And why would I do that?” Bill asked nonchalantly, tilting the boy’s head to the side. He leaned his nose towards the exposed soft, pale flesh of the neck, inhaling deeply before exhaling, “You smell so…. delectable.”

Shivers went down Dipper’s spine, a mixture of disgust and fear settling on his mind. He glanced helplessly towards Mabel, who had drawn her crossbow and was aiming towards him and his captor.

“Let my brother go, you evil vampire!” Mabel shouted.

“What will you do about it, Shooting Star? Shoot me with that pathetic weapon of yours?” he rose his head to laugh mockingly at the young girl before settling back in Dipper’s neck, yellow eyes narrowing and voice lowering in pitch as he taunted, “I dare you.”

Her hands shook as she aimed at the center of the golden-haired figure’s face. The weapon was too bulky and heavy for her untrained arms to lift up for very long, and what if she missed? She could shoot her brother and injure him, or worse. But if she didn’t do anything soon, her brother would be…

Bill smirked and focused his attention on the helpless victim trapped in his arms. He took another deep breath of Dipper’s scent before slowly licking the base of the neck up towards his jawline.

“Ack!” Dipper yelped from the unexpected sensations. His body shuddered with disgust at the saliva that coated one side of his bare neck and from the realization of how much the vampire was _enjoying_ this. He was about to call out to Mabel, to tell her to shoot already, before he felt something pierce his skin.

Bill’s fangs went in effortlessly through Dipper’s soft, youthful skin. Crimson liquid poured from the two new open wounds, dribbling into Bill’s mouth and onto his tongue. He groaned with pleasure, the taste only describable as like ambrosia. Bill leaned in deeper, tilting Dipper’s neck a bit more to the side, seeking to access more of this heavenly flavor that assaulted his taste buds.

Dipper was unable to make a noise, his mouth hanging open in shock. His neck was burning, and he felt a warm liquid trickle slowly down from where the vampire was latched on. He was unsure if it was his own blood or the drool from the one feasting drunkenly from him, but it didn’t matter. His head was racing with thoughts, _oh god I’m going to die, this is awful, why me?_ The sucking sounds coming from below his left earlobe made his stomach churn with horror and nausea.

Mabel gasped in horror at the sight that occurred before her within mere moments. She watched with abhorrence as Bill savored the taste of her twin brother. Mabel grimaced and, in a fit of rage, she pulled the trigger on the crossbow, the silver bolt travelling through the air across the room. “Die, you monster!” she cried out, tears travelling down her cheeks as she looked upon her helpless brother.

Bill briefly glanced up at the bolt that had just been shot from the weapon. He quickly measured its trajectory in his head and, decision made, he side-stepped to his right by a few inches, still holding onto Dipper in the process. The bolt flew past the side of his head and into the wall behind, catching a few strands of golden hair in its path.

“No,” Mabel whispered as she watched the bolt miss its target by a simple, swift side-step. “Nononono!” she wailed, falling to her knees. She had no more bolts to use and she had twisted her ankle pretty badly earlier, leaving her helpless to try fighting off Bill.

Dipper no longer found the strength to resist the vampire’s assault, his hands falling to his sides limply. The only thing keeping him upright was the hand steadying his head and the other that had shifted around his waist. Mabel’s attempts had failed and now it was going to be the end of Dipper Pines. Bill would suck all of his blood. He began to feel light-headed, his vision darkening at the edges. He was going to die.

Bill felt his prey becoming limper in his arms and he flashed a glance towards the kid’s eyes. They were glazed over as he fell into unconsciousness. Despite his appetite telling him to devour the child, he reluctantly released his fangs from the warm flesh. It would be no fun if Pine Tree died now, especially when he had such _delicious_ blood that he could indulge in in the future. Some blood trickled down from the wound. Bill licked it off, savoring the last bits of nectar for the night.

“Well, I had enough for now,” he finally spoke, licking his lips as he let go of Dipper, the boy’s body falling lifelessly to the ground. Mabel watched helplessly, tears streaming down her face, as she watched her twin collapse. “Don’t look so sad, Shooting Star. Your precious brother is still alive! Well, barely," Bill said indifferently, looking down at the unmoving figure that laid facedown on the floor. "Until next time!” He snapped his fingers and transformed into his triangular form with a poof of smoke and cackled maliciously as he floated out of a nearby open window into the night.

“Dipper!” Mabel quickly scrambled over to her brother’s fallen body after the vampire had left. “Dipper, please, wake up!” Tears were streaming down her face as she placed a hand on his shoulder to roll him over onto his back. He felt cold to the touch. Mabel’s heart sunk. _Dipper can’t be dead. He didn’t deserve this. Dipper, please, don’t leave me!_ One phrase in particular took hold in her mind. _It’s all my fault._

She began sobbing, burying her face on his side. “I’m sorry, Dipper… if I didn’t hesitate, if I was stronger… you wouldn’t be…” Her voice broke off as she began to wail. “It’s all my fault!” she repeated between bouts of crying.

Dipper’s arm twitched. Mabel felt the slightest of movement and quickly shot her head up. “Dipper?!” she cried out, crawling over to better see his face. She hadn’t noticed before, but her brother was breathing, albeit shallowly. “Oh thank goodness,” she whispered softly, relieved that her brother hadn’t fallen to the afterlife.

After monitoring her brother for a few moments, sniffling all the while, Mabel surveyed the surrounding area. How was she and her brother going to get out of this old room and find their way back to the shack? They couldn’t afford staying in this unsafe place overnight. What if Bill came back? And what if Dipper wasn’t really alright?

Near the debris of the wooden desk, her backpack was lying face down, some contents having spilled out. Mabel gasped as she remembered bringing along her cell phone. Crawling over towards it, she rummaged around her bag, pulling out old candy wrappers until she found her phone. It wasn’t damaged, thankfully, and had some battery left in it, but there was no reception. _Of course_ , Mabel groaned.

She struggled to stand up, her sprained ankle shooting pain up her body. She winced but dealt with it as she hobbled around the room, her phone held high up in the air to search for any sort of signal. Having exhausted her options within the confines of the room, she leaned out of the open window and was relieved to find a single bar of reception light up on her phone. “Yes!” Mabel exclaimed, immediately dialing in the Mystery Shack’s number and placing the phone beside her ear, continuing to lean out into the dark, chilly night, scanning the foreboding woods below.

Four rings went by and Mabel became worried. She knew Grunkle Stan didn’t take kindly to calls so late in the night, not wanting to deal with complaining customers about how their Stan bobbleheads popped off from cheap manufacturing and assembly. Before the fifth ring, she heard the receiver pick up.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel quickly blurted out, not even waiting to hear what the person on the other side of the line had to say. “DipperandIwereexploringthewoodsand…” she spluttered uncontrollably.

“Whoa, whoa! Mabel, is that you?” said a gruff voice. “Calm down, sweetie! What are you trying to say?”

“Dipper got bitten by a vampire and I don’t know what to do and we’re currently stuck in some building far away from the shack!” Mabel shouted.

“WHAT?” Grunkle Stan hollered. After a brief pause, he responded, “Hold on, we’re on our way!”

“Wait, how will you know where—“ Mabel was cut off by the sound of the dial tone. She looked at her phone. The call ended. _At least it wasn’t a lost connection_.

She staggered over towards where Dipper was still laying down. She lifted his head up and placed it on her lap gently. He breathed slowly but methodically and hardly stirred from being moved. Mabel frowned as she looked at the deep wounds left from the fangs on his neck and watched incredulously and with apprehension as a dark, triangle mark slowly formed around area of the bite.

***

Mabel had been watching her brother worriedly for over a half an hour when she heard noises coming from the nearby forest. She tensed, wary of Bill showing up again, or maybe some other vampire that was looking for a snack. The sounds became louder and more distinguishable as the owners of the noises continued their approach towards the decrepit wooden house she and her brother were stuck in.

“This is the place, Sixer?” said the familiar, gruff voice of Stanley Pines.

Ford fiddled around with his wristwatch that he had modified to record collected data and adjusted his glasses. “According to the coordinates we received from the phone call, yes.”

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” called out a female voice from the interior of the run-down building. The two men stopped in their tracks and stared at the house.

“Mabel?!” called out Stan as he began rushing towards the half-open wooden door.

Ford quickly reached out to grab his brother’s arm. “Wait,” he said with a hushed voice. “That could be the vampire that attacked the kids, pretending to be Mabel to fool us!”

Stan glared at his paranoid brother and growled, “Do you really think now is the time for that? Plus, we’re _professional_ vampire hunters, remember? I think I know how to handle myself by now.”

Ford stared blankly at his scowling brother. “Oh, right,” he muttered, freeing his brother’s arm. “I just… wanted you to be aware of the dangers.” He cleared his throat nervously.

Stan’s facial expression softened and he pat his twin on the back. “Come on, Poindexter. Let’s get going and take the kids back to the shack, yeah?” The two flashed a brief smile at each other before dashing off into the interior of the house.

Mabel heard the wooden door on the first floor creak open slowly, followed by heavy, hesitant footsteps. “Mabel?” called out Ford after a few moments of silence, presumably to scan the surrounding area for danger. “Where are you?”

“I’m up here, on the second floor!” she replied promptly.

After hearing them run up the stairs, she saw her great uncles with their weapons drawn and ready. Ford glanced warily around the room, a loaded pistol in his hands. Stan wore his silver-plated brass knuckles and held up his fists as he, too, quickly surveyed the room. Seeing no signs of danger, they put away their weapons and quickly ran towards the two children sitting near the farthest wall from the door.

“Are you injured, Mabel?” Ford asked as he approached her worriedly.

“I just have a sprained ankle,” she replied, looking up at her great uncle’s face before returning her gaze back to her brother. “But Dipper…” Mabel looked sadly at Dipper, who hadn’t shown any signs of waking up since she called her great uncles.

Grunkle Stan walked over to Mabel, smiling gingerly. “Get on my back, kiddo. I’ll carry you back home.”

Mabel smiled and hopped on her great uncle’s back. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan.”

Meanwhile, Ford knelt over Dipper and examined the wound and the associated triangle mark that surrounded it. He frowned and spoke solemnly as he fetched through his memory about this ill omen, “Mabel, this mark…”

Grunkle Stan turned around so that Mabel could see Ford hovering over Dipper, his six-fingered hand tilting Dipper’s head a little to the side to obtain a better view of the mark. “I saw it forming after I called you guys… Grunkle Ford, what does it mean?”

Ford grimaced and responded, “Dipper is in danger.” He picked up the unconscious boy in his arms and looked at his twin and worried niece. “Let’s head back to the shack, quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Yay, this scene makes mildly more sense after I updated with introductory chapters, haha.
> 
> Hello there! Thank you for taking your time to read my first fanfic! ^-^ As you may have your suspicions, this isn't the first official chapter of the Crimson Liquid fanfic. I kind of wrote a scene in my head, and well, I found out that I liked the outcome! I have more chapters lined up to be released weekly, so please look forward to them!
> 
> Feel free to give any critiques or comments! Oh, and also feel free to check out my Tumblr at: shadowolven.tumblr.com


	4. Nobles

Dipper felt like he was floating, drifting aimlessly in either direction or no direction at all. It was comforting, yet not. The fear of uncertainty slowly began to take hold, his thoughts swimming in the multitude of possibilities that he could be in as he had no idea what was going on. His eyes slowly opened.

Blackness everywhere. Dipper motioned to sit up, but found himself not on any form of solid ground. Usually, he would flail his arms and scream from the unusual predicament he has found himself in, but no such reaction nor fear took hold. It was as if he had been to this place multiple times, but Dipper had no recollection of ever being here. Things felt natural, yet it was certainly unnatural.

He had managed to upright himself with ease and took a step forward, knowing full well that there is no solid ground in this infinite blackness and therefore logically, he shouldn’t be able to move in such a normal manner. Yet, he did. It was strange, walking with no friction nor anything to provide resistance to his weight.

Dipper continued forward in the darkness for what seems like an endless amount of time. He looked around, searching for something within the blackness. But what? He didn’t know, but he was here to find something. Something important? Yes, very important. More minutes passed and more distance was covered in this paradoxical world. Nothing seemed to have changed as he walked, yet Dipper suddenly sensed something before him. He stopped and looked upwards without any hesitation. Something was there, but how did he know? He just did.

Moments of silence passed, and Dipper continued staring in the direction he had chosen. Soon, the black object that Dipper had gazed at within the infinite blackness changed. A large black orb waxed like the moon from bottom to top, revealing a brilliant white light that illuminated the persisting blackness. Within the center was a single vertical, black line. A giant eye was gazing down to meet with Dipper’s.

They stared at each other in silence for what seemed like hours. Neither party blinked. Dipper reached out a hand towards the orb in the sky. Its slit pupils became narrower and sharper in length. A sickening crack and the sound of something soft being torn suddenly interrupted the mutual silence. Crimson dyed the room, staining Dipper’s vision.

 

Dipper awoke with a start, sweating and panting heavily, and frantically looked around. A dim light illuminated the room, and he could see the wooden beams lining the room and a painting of a ship sailing on the water to his right. Dipper sighed in relief. He was back in reality, in his room. What he had seen earlier was just some weird dream.

“You’re awake!” He heard a familiar female voice from a few feet away. Mabel set down the scrapbook that she was writing in and leapt off of her bed, her sprain having healed, and glomped him.

“Whoa!” Dipper shouted, not ready for the surprise tackle-hug. “What’s gotten into you, Mabel?”

“I… I thought I had lost you,” Mabel whimpered, holding onto her brother in a tight embrace. Dipper felt her warm tears seep into the shoulder of his shirt.

The previously-forgotten memories of the recent events flashed through Dipper’s mind. The old house, the coffin, Bill. His head throbbed with a sudden headache as he remembered the horrible near-death experience he had with a vampire. His neck, too, briefly flared with warmth at the resurgence of memories.

He resisted the urge to clutch his head from the sudden dizziness that swept over him and instead hugged Mabel back. “I know,” he said softly. “But I’m still here, aren’t I?” The twins held each other in embrace for a few moments before letting go. Mabel wiped away her tears on her sweater before she looked directly at her brother, her facial expression unusually serious.

“I promise that I will protect you,” Mabel said earnestly, looking deeply into her brother’s eyes.

Dipper stared back with surprise at her sudden seriousness. Was all of this because he had been careless? He was going to respond with something along the lines of everything being fine, that she didn’t have to say such things, but Mabel quickly leapt to her feet, returning to her cheery self.

“I _am_ the Alpha Twin, after all!” she interrupted, puffing up her chest and grinning. “So I gotta watch out for you, bro-bro!” She winked at her confused brother and hopped off his bed. “Oh! That reminds me!” Mabel dashed out of the attic room, shouting all the while, “GRUNKLE FOOOOOORD! Dipper’s awake!”

 

Dipper was given time to clean himself off in the shower before going downstairs to meet with everyone. While he didn’t particularly enjoy showering in the first place, the warm water that currently washed away the dirt, his sweat, and dried blood was certainly a refreshing feeling. He lathered up his neck with a bar of soap and winced as the chemicals interacted with the bite mark that he had momentarily forgotten about.

“Ow!” he hissed to himself, rubbing around the sore area gently. Remembering the slick sensation of a tongue having run over his skin, Dipper shuddered with disgust. He decided to just deal with the pain and scrubbed the area as thoroughly as he could with the soap to rid himself of the gross sensation. He frowned as he withdrew the soap bar, its original ivory color now dyed lightly with a hue of red. Dipper rinsed the stinging suds off his neck, being careful about the wounds he re-opened, and rinsed his blood off the bar of soap before finishing cleaning the rest of his body off.

Stepping out of the shower, clean and refreshed, he dried himself off with a towel and put on a clean red shirt and pair of shorts that he had brought a dozen copies to Gravity Falls. Dipper checked himself in the mirror, quickly making sure that his clothes weren’t inside-out or backwards and that his hair looked adequate, before noticing a dark mark on his neck. “What is that?” he mumbled, leaning in towards the fogged up mirror to get a better look. It seemed like… a triangle? He furrowed his brows as a feeling of dread creeped up on him.

He walked down the stairs towards the living room, where Stan, Ford, and Mabel were sitting at the wooden table, chattering quietly amongst themselves. Dipper noticed the blackboard nearby, with white chalk writings scribbled all over, as Mabel waved and pointed exaggeratedly to the empty chair next to her. He smiled awkwardly at her as he sat down to the directed seat, covering up the mark on his neck with a hand. The talking between his great uncles ceased as they both looked at him with worried expressions.

“Uh…” Dipper coughed nervously. “So… what’s with the meeting?”

He glanced around at everyone’s faces. Mabel and Stan suddenly looked downcast and had averted their gazes. Ford’s glasses reflected the light from overhead the table, and Dipper couldn’t tell if he was looking at him or not. “Dipper,” Ford said after a moment of awkward silence, “you’re in grave danger.”

“What?” Dipper’s heart raced as his anxiety levels began to rise. Did it have to do with this weird mark on his neck?

Ford walked over towards the blackboard and pulled it closer to the table so that everyone could see it. He held a wooden pointer in his hands as he began lecturing.

“You see, vampires have a loose hierarchy of power. There’s the common vampires,” he pointed with the stick to a chalk drawing of what looked like a crudely-drawn person with fangs in a t-shirt and pants, “which are the ones we commonly see and execute. They obey the next hierarchy of vampires, the nobles.” He moved the pointer of his stick to the next drawing, which depicted a fancily-dressed vampire. “These are rarer and are a troublesome bunch. We estimate there to be about one noble for every few hundred regular vampires, and they have significantly above-average levels of strength, speed, intellect, and regeneration than common vampires.”

Mabel and Dipper looked worriedly at each other as Bill came to their minds.

“Stan and I have only succeeded in defeating two nobles in our entire lifetime, but there are still a few dozen hidden throughout the States. They are generally harder to locate since they do not usually hunt. I’m not too sure on the details, but it seems like they have servants who bring them sacrifices to their hiding location, or they choose to drink wines made with human blood purchased from the black market.

“Now, the reason I’m telling you kids this is not only to prepare you for the kinds of vampires you can encounter, but also because…” Ford glanced at Dipper. The boy shifted uncomfortably from the sudden attention. “I believe the vampire you have ran into is a noble.”

“But… that’s not such a big deal, right?” Dipper asked, chuckling nervously. “I mean, you and Grunkle Stan have dealt with nobles before, so you can get rid of him, right?”

Ford pushed up his glasses and returned his attention to the chalkboard. “It’s not as easy as that, Dipper. Regular vampires are naturally stronger than the average human, and those untrained in fighting them will have a difficult time fending them off. A noble, however, is significantly stronger than that of a common vampire, and defeating them usually requires the aid of an experienced partner or more. It also generally requires a well-crafted ambush, which is surprisingly hard to do with how perceptive these creatures are. The biggest concern right now, however, is not that there’s a noble in Gravity Falls, but it is about your future, Dipper.”

Dipper watched as the three simultaneously looked at him. He shrunk back in his seat, self-conscious of the eyes suddenly gazing at him. Why him? Was it because he got bitten? By a noble?

Ford directed their attention to an exponential graph he drew on the board. “I was looking through the vampire hunter historical records and found some interesting details on how vampires spread. When a normal vampire bites a victim, the chances of being converted to a vampire themselves is based on how many times one has been exposed to vampire DNA from their saliva. Being bitten once means you have an extremely low chance of transforming. With repeated exposure, however, the chances of turning into a vampire greatly increase.”

Dipper gulped, his anxiety levels increasing. “What… what happens when you get bit by a noble, then?” he asked hoarsely, gripping his stomach as nausea swept over him.

“That is, interestingly, the odd part. Nobles have a different system, and hence explains their unusual hunting behavior. As you now know, nobles prefer to have blood brought to them, whether in the form of wine or by a living sacrifice. They will usually kill the offered victim by drinking them dry. Now, why do you think that nobles kill whereas the normal vampires do not?” Ford looked at the children with a stoic face. The children’s facial expressions were confused and unsure.

He continued, “Surprisingly, nobles cannot convert humans into a vampire with a bite. Instead, the noble vampires leave a… curse, of a sort, when they bite a human victim and fail to kill.” Dipper felt a chill run down his spine, and he squeezed his neck where the triangular mark was located.

Ford gazed at the boy sadly. “That mark on your neck is an indication of being bitten by a noble. It varies between nobles as to what shape the mark leaves and is usually found on only one human at a time. As for the nature of the curse… well, the details are a little fuzzy since there’s not many records of it. From what I gathered, though, it seems like the cursed human becomes afflicted with… what seems to be a blind loyalty and strong desire to have their blood drawn from the noble that marked them.”

Dipper was feeling extremely sick to his stomach as he continued to listen to his great uncle speak. “The good news is that you don’t have to worry about turning into a vampire from having been bitten. The bad news, though, as you can probably guess, is that you have an extremely high chance of losing yourself if you can’t resist the curse. As of right now,” Ford glanced at his watch. ”It’s been 4 hours since you’ve been attacked according to Mabel. That’s why, Dipper, you’re forbidden from leaving the shack without supervision so that we can observe your behavior and hopefully figure out a way to reverse the mark. You _must_ refrain from any thoughts of giving yourself to that vampire.”

The boy looked incredulously at his great uncle, dread looming in the back of his mind about his future. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, struggling to find the words and the strength to speak. Anxiety overtook him as he thought about the many “what-ifs.” What if they couldn’t get rid of it? What if he couldn’t control himself? What if he endangered Mabel, all because of his dumb luck? Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to fall. He averted his gaze downwards toward his lap, clenching both of his hands on top of them.

A moment of silence fell upon the room. “It’s late,” Grunkle Stan finally spoke up, standing up slowly. “You deserve to rest after such a long day, Dipper.” He walked out of the living room and motioned for his brother to follow suit. Ford flashed a sad glance at the young pair of twins still sitting at the table before heading to his room.

Mabel kept facing forward but gazed sideways at her brother. She hadn’t seen him this distressed since when the bullies teased him about his birthmark back in elementary school before he began hiding it. Now there was a new mark he was ashamed about, in plain sight, which may also cause him to not-be-Dipper.

“Dipper,” she said softly, raising a hand up to touch him reassuringly on his shoulder before stopping herself. He was shaking, and Mabel watched as a teardrop fell from his eyes to his shorts. She retracted her hand and stood up slowly, walking over to the other side of Dipper before holding out a palm. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

Dipper glanced over at Mabel’s hand and slowly took it with one of his hands. He kept his head down low, not daring to look at her, as they walked unhurriedly up the stairs. When they reached their bedroom, they released their hands from one another and sequestered off to their own beds. Mabel watched sadly as her brother flopped onto his bed and threw the covers on top of himself, facing towards the wall away from her. She proceeded to roll over as well when she heard his wavering voice speak. “I’m scared, Mabel.”

She stopped moving and gazed through the darkness towards her brother’s direction. He continued, “And I don’t want to worry you, either… I should be the one protecting you, but here I am… weak and causing trouble. For you, for Grunkle Stan, for Ford…”

A pause. “I’m sorry.” Dipper curled up, drawing his legs closer to his chest and wrapped his arms around them as he laid under the covers. Tears ran down his cheeks to land on top of his pillow.

He heard the sound of shuffling from opposite the room. Was she ignoring him? Guess he deserved that after all the problems he’s caused everyone. He sniffled and shut his eyes.

Dipper felt the mattress sink a little as something sat on top of his bed. Mabel scooted closer, set her pillow down next to his, and laid down beside him. “A lot of things are happening right now,” she said solemnly. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this.” She leaned in closer to his back. “But we’ll get through this together. As a family. We’ll train together and become stronger, and we’ll defeat Bill and the rest of the vampires together.” Mabel reached her arms around to hug her twin in a comforting manner. “Don’t give up hope.”

Another moment of silence. Dipper released his arms from around his legs and reached a hand up to touch Mabel’s. “Thanks,” he said, smiling in the dark. She smiled, too, even though they couldn’t see each other’s faces.

“Good night, stupid,” she said lightheartedly.

“Good night, stupid.” Dipper replied. The two twins drifted off to sleep, unaware of the triangular shadow that floated ominously just outside of their window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, a bunch of explaining about my take on vampires for this AU!


	5. Training

The sounds of bullets and bolts being fired echoed in the shack’s underground shooting gallery. “You call that a shot?” Ford roared at the children. “Come on, straighten your backs, relax your shoulders, and focus down your sights. You can’t hunt down vampires if you can’t aim!”

Dipper and Mabel had practice weapons in their hands, aiming them towards their respective faraway dummies that had a target taped to its chest. Neither of them had hit a bullseye yet, but there were holes and arrows all around the center of their targets.

Dipper raised his BB gun pistol and squinted down the sights. Ford came from behind and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, forcing them down. He nudged Dipper’s legs apart with his foot as he fixed the boy’s stance. “Relax and take a deep breath.” Dipper followed the instructions and focused, arms steadying as he pulled the plastic trigger. The pellet missed the bullseye by a centimeter. “Better!” Ford exclaimed happily. “Keep it up.”

The older male moved over towards Mabel, who had a smaller, wooden crossbow from the one she had the other night. She stuck out her tongue as she stared down the sights. Ford fixed her stance a little and instructed her in a similar manner, watching as she released the wooden bolt and hit the bullseye. He smiled and clapped her on the back, exclaiming, “There you go! Keep up the great work you two, and you both will soon be able to move onto moving targets!”

As the ranged training continued, Dipper’s neck itched. While the wound had completely disappeared that morning, much to everyone’s surprise from how quickly it had healed, it was replaced with an incessant itching sensation. He reached up a hand and scratched it, but it just felt like he was clawing at his regular skin. It hurt and offered no relief from the persistent tingling sensation that was clearly there, but seemingly unattainable.

“You okay, Dipper?” asked Ford as he noticed the boy being distracted.

Dipper was startled as he nervously glanced up at his great uncle before quickly going back to aiming. “S-sorry Grunkle Ford. My neck’s just been… itchy.”

Ford looked pensively at the boy. “Itchy, you say?”

“I-it’s probably nothing!” Dipper hastily said, shooting another BB pellet. It missed the target completely. “It’s probably just... itchy from the scabs that fell off earlier.” He lied. There were no scabs when he woke up and he certainly didn’t find any around his bed. His neck looked flawless, as if he hadn’t been injured in the first place, with the exception of the triangle symbol that was tattooed to his skin.

Ford let out a “hmm” as he observed the nervous boy struggling to land a bullseye. He shrugged and turned his attention back towards Mabel who was retrieving the bolts for reuse. “Very well,” he said to Dipper. “But let me know about any strange developments, alright? We can’t find a counter-spell if we don’t know what exactly is going on.”

The boy focused down his sights again and took another shot, this time just missing the bullseye by a hair. He sighed, knowing that he should probably tell Ford the whole truth about the nonstop itching sensation just below his skin. It _was_ pretty different from the norm, but at the same time, he didn’t want to cause further trouble for everyone. Maybe it wasn’t even related to the curse. He could probably just learn to ignore it like he had with his mosquito bites.

“Grub’s ready!” Grunkle Stan called out from above the stairs that led to the underground shooting gallery, signaling their training session with Ford to be over for the day. The kids set down their weapons and ran up the stairs to meet Stan at the kitchen table where food had just been cooked and set down.

Mabel dashed to her chair and sat down with her tongue hanging out like a dog’s, fork and knife ready to dig into the feast of delicious salad, chicken, mashed potatoes, and a side of corn and peas. Dipper sat down in his seat calmly and exclaimed, “Whoa! Homemade food, Grunkle Stan?”

“And it looks and smells _good_?” Mabel grinned, nudging her brother as they playfully joked with their Grunkle.

Ford sat down across from where his brother was seated and also feigned astonishment. “Wow, Stanley, I didn’t know you knew how to make this kind of a meal!”

Stan frowned and folded his arms in a defensive manner. “Hey, just because I’m too lazy to cook anything besides pancakes doesn’t mean I’m incompetent! Besides, you kids have had a long day and missed dinner last night, so have something to treat yourselves.”

The other three laughed. They thanked Stan for the food and heaped food onto their plates and began digging in. Stan watched with pride as they complimented his cooking, and shortly joined in the feast once they had finished piling on their first plate.

After lunch was over, the kids ran outside ahead of their Grunkle Stan. As Ford cleaned up the dining area, he stopped Stan by the shoulder and whispered, “Stanley, keep an eye on Dipper. Let me know if he seems… unfazed by the rigorous physical exercise. I have some suspicions about the nature of that curse.”

Stan glanced over his shoulder to take a look at his concerned twin’s face. “Got it," Stan replied as he went outside to begin the close-combat training with the kids.

He stepped outside of the shack, the sun beaming brightly high in the sky above them. Stan threw the children each a blunt wooden dagger to practice with. “Now listen up,” he barked, standing under the shaded porch just in front of the outdoor couch. “Before you guys start the actual training, you must first be comfortable with using a dagger. Silver daggers are our best friends in case our other weapons don’t work for whatever reason.”

He pulled out his silver dagger that had been sheathed on his belt loop. It reflected the sunlight and shone a brilliant white color. The twins squinted their eyes from the glare. Stan twirled it in his fingers as he kept talking, “If you find yourself pinned down and your primary weapon is too far away to reach, you got this handy-dandy dagger here to strike at the vampire’s heart. Of course, this means you need to have a hand available. If you don’t got that, then you better find a way to do so or else you’re going to become vampire food. Now, practice just holding and swinging your dagger around.”

The kids looked at the weapon in their hands, the only dangerous-looking thing about it seemed to be the risk of getting splinters. They shrugged and practiced swinging it around at the air.

“Good, good,” Stan grunted as he sat down on the couch, taking out a Pitt cola to sip on. After a few more minutes of watching the children flail their arms about, he instructed, “Okay. Now, practice swinging at each other. The dagger you got there shouldn’t be enough to break the skin, even if you swing at full strength. It’s been dulled down for a reason.” He took a swig of his drink. “Whoever gets hit the most in the next thirty minutes has to clean the bathroom for the next month.”

“What?” Dipper and Mabel shouted in unison at their Grunkle Stan, astonished at the demand.

Dipper exclaimed, “You want us to hit each other?”

Mabel complained, “The bathroom for a _whole_ month? That’s gross!”

“I don’t make the rules,” Stan said, waving a dismissive hand at their complaints.

“Yes you do!” retorted Dipper.

“Time’s a-tickin’,” he said. “If it’s a tie, then you both have to clean the bathroom _and_ do the laundry.”

Dipper groaned and looked at Mabel. She looked back, unsure of what to do. While he didn’t want to hit his sister, this _was_ a form of training. Plus, Stan said it shouldn’t be dangerous for either of them. Dipper looked at the wooden stick in his hands and deemed it to be pretty harmless. He looked at Mabel and nodded. She nodded back, grinning with a brace-filled smile as they readied themselves.

Mabel was the first to break the calm atmosphere and ran towards Dipper. She wasn’t too fast, but he knew that she sure could pack a punch. He easily evaded her first swing and countered, striking her lightly on her shoulder. “One point for Dipper,” Stan said.

“Aww, darn!” she grumbled, nearly tripping over herself as she turned around. “That’s no fair!” She pouted and squinted at her twin, who was grinning sheepishly. She let out a loud “hmm” as she thought of a way to use her qualities to her advantage.

Mabel began running towards her brother again before stopping mid-way. “Whoa, is that a two-headed dog over there?” she asked suddenly, pointing to a direction behind Dipper.

“What, where?!” Dipper asked, turning around. Stan snickered at the boy’s gullibility as Mabel easily tapped Dipper with her weapon. “One point for Mabel,” Stan stated.

“Gotcha!” Mabel exclaimed, running around to see her brother’s astonished face.

“H-hey! That’s cheating!” Dipper cried out, pointing a guilty finger at his sister while looking at Stan.

“Anything goes, kid,” Stan said, drinking from his soda.

Dipper huffed up and glared at his sister. Oh, it was _on_. Stan watched as the kids began sparring each other with less hesitation. Dipper evaded and striked with fast movements whereas Mabel took advantage of the weak points in Dipper’s movements to rack up points.

It was nearly the half-hour mark, and the score was tied. The sun was bearing down on the children, their bodies sweaty and exhausted from the summer heat and from having to evade each other’s maneuvers. Mabel dashed towards her brother again, and Dipper waited for the right time to dodge and counter to win the match. While biding his time, a sudden shot of pain throbbed from the mark on his neck and he gripped it instinctually. He felt light-headed and his vision became blurry for a few moments, his neck unusually warmer from the rest of his body. An image of Bill’s grin, revealing sharp fangs, flashed through his mind. He felt a light tap on his head as Mabel won the competition.

“Whoo! Alpha twin, alpha twin!” she chanted as Stan declared Mabel the winner. She stopped cheering after Dipper fell to one knee, clutching his neck in pain. “Yo, Dippingsauce, you alright?” she asked worriedly.

“Y-yeah,” Dipper stammered, the pain subsiding as quickly as it came. The itching feeling remained, feeling a little more like a nuisance than usual. “I just got tired, that’s all.”

Stan frowned and walked towards the children, handing them each a Pitt cola he grabbed from the cooler. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about cleaning the bathrooms, kiddos. It was just a lie to get you guys to practice. Come on, let’s go inside and relax with some TV, eh?”

Mabel took the chilled soda can with glee and ran inside. Dipper weakly stood up and grasped the frigid aluminum can. “Dipper,” Stan said, the boy wearily looking up in response to his name. “Your neck ain’t giving you problems, is it?”

Dipper thought about telling Grunkle Stan about the weird headache he got, but quickly decided against it. It wouldn’t be good to worry them. “It’s fine. I think the heat got to my head.”

Stan frowned and responded, “Alright. But remember, you can trust us, alright?” He walked over and ruffled Dipper’s hair.

“I know, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper responded, smiling and brushing aside the old man’s hand from his sweaty head as they walked together towards the interior of the shack.

The children sat down in front of the television, turning on Ducktective to relax. Stan went over to Ford, who was poring over some old, dusty books on the same table they had the group meeting last night. “Yo, Sixer,” Stan casually remarked, sitting across from his brother. “Dipper seemed pretty exhausted by the end of the training session.”

Ford glanced up briefly from his books with his regular frowning face. “I see,” he said, returning back to skimming through the pages. “Keep monitoring him throughout this week’s training.”

“Alright, but can you at least tell me why?” Stan grumbled, setting down his soda can a little too forcefully on the table.

His six-fingered brother paid no attention to the pounding on the table and answered, “I looked into the few recorded instances of the hunters interrogating these marked victims. It appears that they have normal levels of red blood cells within mere hours after last donating their blood to the vampire, which is unusual because regular humans have to wait up to four to eight weeks to fully recover their cell count.”

“And how, exactly, does that relate to being tired after exercising?”

“Blood banks generally advise you to not undergo rigorous exercise within 24 hours of donating blood without drinking a lot of fluids and eating carbs, right? Well, Dipper didn’t seem to drink more than normal today. Granted,” Ford stood up and shrugged, “we did have a big meal today. But, if you told me that he seems exhausted, then perhaps my suspicions are wrong. Although…” He placed a six-fingered hand on his chin thoughtfully, looking upwards into the air. “It is pretty odd that his wound recovered so quickly and cleanly. He also told me that it felt... itchy?”

“Itchy?” Stan raised an eyebrow curiously. “What does _that_ mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Ford said, flipping through the pages once more. “I tried looking into it but there’s no records of ‘itchiness’ or known reversal spells to dispel the curse.” He glanced worriedly out into the living room where the kids were mesmerized by the screen. “I’m worried we might not be able to do anything for him other than to keep an eye out that he doesn’t interact with that noble.”

Stan looked down at the table, following the rings and marks on the wooden planks with his eyes. “Maybe, maybe not,” he muttered. “But we’ll be there for the kid. He’s pretty strong, you know.”

Ford returned to gazing at his books. “If… If only I didn’t assume that the kids would be safe exploring Gravity Falls unattended…” He gripped the sides of the table, feeling angry and guilty at his careless actions. He looked up at Stanley with a sorrowful expression on his face. “What will I tell their parents? I said I’d protect them, but look at how that turned out.”

Stan frowned. “Hey, hey,” he whispered. “It’s not your fault this happened. I was there too, remember? We both thought they would be okay. It’s not like he’s turned into a vampire; now _that_ would be a bigger problem.”

“I know, Stanley, but… this wouldn’t have happened in the first place if only I were more careful.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Stan said as he stood up and lifted his undershirt to reveal his scar of three large jagged claw-marks on his right side. Ford frowned as the scar reminded him of a negative memory from many years ago.

_They had just gotten into a fight with one another over something completely asinine, and he had stormed out of the house late in the night, his brother trailing behind to try preventing him from venturing out into the dark woods. He ignored his infuriating brother’s pleas to stay indoors. How could he stay under the same roof with his foolish brother after that argument?_

_"Ford, please!” he heard from behind. “I’m sorry, alright? Just, please, don’t go!”_

_He turned around and scowled, “This was the_ last _straw, Stanley! I’m—“ He suddenly stopped yelling, his eyes widening as he saw a shadow swiftly sneak up behind his brother, a twisted claw raised._

_"Watch out, Stanley!” he shouted, pulling out his weapon. His brother quickly turned around to look at what was behind him. He saw the distorted inhuman creature bring down its claws towards him. Stan attempted to dodge the attack, but let out a guttural scream as the claws left deep gashes in his right side, his blood splattering across his frightened brother’s face and pooling onto the ground as he collapsed._

_Ford remembered looking down in horror at his severely wounded brother, who only wanted to protect him, and then looking up with seething rage at the berserk vampire who laughed maniacally while licking his brother’s fresh blood off of its gnarled, grotesque hand._

“That one sure took a chunk out of me,” Stan laughed, “but you patched me up good. I shouldn’t have let my guard down that evening.” He pulled his clothes back down to cover the discolored skin. Ford wanted to interject, saying that that was also his fault for having been thoughtless, that he only brought nothing but trouble.

However, Stan quickly continued his speech, “We all make mistakes, but we have always found ways to fix them. I mean sure, it’s not the same as some curse that messes with your thoughts, but I guess what I’m trying to go for here is that when you and I are on the case, there’s nothing that can prevent us from achieving our goals. We’re the unstoppable Pines twins!” He smiled at his twin who looked a little dazed at his brother’s optimism before finally returning the smile. Stan added, “We’ll find a way to cure Dipper. Plus, as I said, the kid’s tough. I’m sure we won’t have to worry too much about losing him.”

“Yeah,” Ford agreed, lifting up his glasses to wipe his damp eyes before staring at the children who were still watching television with innocent glee. "We'll cure him."


	6. Bound

“Ugh!” Mabel grunted as she flopped backwards onto her bed, limps splayed out. “My whole _body_ aches.”

Dipper crawled onto his mattress and fell face-first onto his soft pillow, groaning, “I _know_. Ford and Stan are working us to _death_.”

“But at least we got these cool custom-made weapons!” Mabel managed to sit upright, waving around a smaller, silver-plated crossbow than the one she had first worked with.

“Yeah,” Dipper grinned, looking at the silver pistol that fit perfectly in his hands. “How’d Grunkle Ford manage to get these so quickly, anyway?”

“I don’t know, but this means we’re closer to becoming full-fledged hunters!”

Dipper laughed and rolled onto his back, staring at the wooden ceiling. “It’s only been three days of training and we already have our own weapons… That’s pretty crazy. We haven’t even gotten to the moving targets yet.”

“I hear that’s tomorrow,” Mabel yawned and set down her crossbow gently on the desk nearby. She picked up her stuffed toy of Princess Lovacorn to snuggle with as she pulled the covers over her head. She mumbled something mostly incoherent to Dipper’s ears, but he managed to make out the sleepy words, “Good night.”

“Good night, Mabel,” Dipper replied, yawning himself as he pulled his sheets up to his neck. He lightly brushed a hand over the warmer side of his neck and instantly regretted it, grumbling angrily to himself as he remembered the nagging, itching feeling that hadn’t gone away since he obtained the mark. He swore it was getting worse with each passing hour and day, but no matter how desperately he tried to relieve the sensation, it only felt extremely painful as he scratched his neck raw to no avail. Even trying to use an anti-itch cream or a backscratcher led to no promising results.

Dipper sighed and pulled out his mystery novel to try and distract himself. He took out a small gas lantern from beside his bed and placed it underneath the sheets to read his book without waking up his passed-out sister. Time passed by calmly as he read, becoming so engrossed that he forgot all about his physical aches and associated pains until he had turned a page too quickly.

“Ack!” he yelped lightly to himself, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as he instantly glanced at his finger. He squinted through the dim lantern light and noticed a very thin papercut on his index finger. A few minute droplets of blood formed right before his eyes from the wound.

Dipper furrowed his brows in confusion as he looked at the cut. He’s had _way_ worse papercuts before, so why did it feel like someone had just driven a knife into his finger? He resisted the strong urge to cry from the sharp, throbbing pain that emanated from his papercut as he bookmarked the page of his novel and put it away for the night.

He snuffed out the lantern and placed it back down on the floor beside his bed. Dipper shut his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the pain from his sore muscles, papercut, mosquito bites, and itchy neck. _Man_ , he thought as he rolled onto his side and pulled the sheets closer to his body. _This is turning out to be a great summer_.

The next morning, Ford pounded on the door and shouted, “Training in half-an-hour, sharp!” Dipper and Mabel yawned and stretched, rubbing their sleepy eyelids awake. Mabel was the first to get out of bed, complaining quietly about feeling sorer than the day before, as she headed to the bathroom to get ready.

Dipper sat up in his bed, his body feeling surprisingly fine. He looked down at his hand, expecting to find a thin scab of his papercut that he remembered he obtained last night, but instead, he found no traces of the wound at all. The boy looked incredulously at his body’s quick recovery, at first suspicious, but then shrugged. He was a growing boy, after all. His nagging neck, however, reminded him that he still had at least one problem to deal with as he slowly got ready for the day.

The days of the week passed by in a similar manner to one another, with shooting practice with Ford beginning from dawn until lunchtime, and endurance and physical training with Stan beginning after lunch until dusk.

Dipper tried his best to hide his irritable condition from his sister and great uncles. He knew he _really_ should tell them about the increasingly annoying feeling on his neck since it clearly wasn’t normal at this point. Even mosquito bites didn’t get worse the more you ignored it. At the same time, though, he didn’t want to be a burden to them. He convinced himself that if he could resist, well, whatever this is, then everything will be fine, right? It was just an itch, after all.

 

It was evening, almost a whole week since he had obtained the mark. “We’ll be back soon!” Mabel shouted, walking backwards on the dirt path while waving her arm frantically at Dipper and Ford, who were waving back near the front door of the Mystery Shack. “Don’t miss us too much!”

“Be safe Mabel, Grunkle Stan!” Dipper called out. He watched as her and Stan headed off towards the dark woods to look for some resources to fortify the shack’s anti-vampire defensive barrier spell that had been accidentally deactivated during the physical training session earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t want to go with them?” Ford asked, looking curiously at the boy. “It’s not too late to catch up with them.”

“I’m sure. I don’t think I’m ready for more adventuring quite yet.” Dipper’s arms returned to his side as he saw the last of Mabel’s pink sweater fade into the swallowing darkness.

“Odd, I thought you were the adventurous one.” Ford mumbled aloud.

Dipper blushed and went inside of the shack, “Well, I…” He stammered, thinking of an excuse. “I-I don’t want to accidentally encounter Bill and put everyone in danger, you know?” he finally blurted out.

“Oh, speaking of Bill,” Ford put a fist onto the palm of his other hand as a thought popped into his head. “That reminds me!” He shut the front door of the shack and quickly scanned the nearby bookshelf. “Aha! Here it is,” he commented, taking out a black leather-bound journal and flipped through the written entries. He stopped on a page in the middle of the journal and pointed, directing Dipper’s curious eyes to the dated entry.

“June 4, 1842. Continued my investigation of the citizens of Gravity Falls. Met a well-dressed blonde man by the name of Bill Cipher. Seems to be a well-mannered young male. No suspicions.” Ford flipped a few more pages and pointed to another entry. Dipper’s neck felt warmer as he continued to read aloud the entries. “July 27, 1842. Interrogated a vampire. Said there was a noble in this small town. Did not provide a name. Begged for mercy. Did not spare.”

Another entry shortly after, “July 30, 1842. Discovered identity of noble: Bill Cipher. Notified other hunters in the area to gather and exterminate.”

Ford turned some more pages. “August 24, 1842. Bill Cipher unable to be located after weeks of searching and interrogating locals. Suspect he may have fled the area upon discovery. If turns up again in the future, EXERCISE CAUTION and exterminate IMMEDIATELY.”

“That’s all I found on Bill Cipher in the vampire hunter records that I have,” Ford said, shutting the journal and placing it back into the bookshelf. “Now I wonder why he came back to Gravity Falls…”

Dipper’s heart raced with worry and anxiety as he thought about when he and Mabel had accidentally awoken Bill from his slumber. He couldn’t just tell great uncle Ford that all of this was basically his fault. “W-well, whatever it is, it can’t be good, right?” Dipper hastily asked, trying to change the topic. His neck was aching at the mere thoughts of the vampire, and reading those journal entries really didn’t help with how irritating his neck was being.

“True,” Ford commented, yawning. “You never know with nobles and vampires. Well, it’s getting late, and you had a long day of training. How about you and I hit the hay?”

Dipper nodded. His neck felt like it was on fire, and the memories of his encounter with Bill continued to surface in his mind, no matter how much he tried to block them out. He quickly went up the stairs and into his room, shutting the door and crawling into his bed. The boy clutched his neck and whimpered in pain and need. The itching continued to grow to unusual levels of uncomfortableness and was accompanied with the strong desire to be cured from it all.

He so desperately wanted to relieve the sensation, but he had no idea of how to do that. His nails failed to work, ignoring it isn't doing anything but making it worse, so how else do people deal with an itch? The memory of Bill penetrating his skin with sharp fangs resurfaced in his mind and his body shivered with realization and desire. _Of course_ , Dipper thought, his eyes widening. Bill caused all of this, and it would be Bill who could satisfy the need that originated from his neck. The name was on his lips when he caught himself, shaking his head viciously. _No!_ he yelled at himself, hitting his head in frustration with a balled up fist. _This is all the curse’s fault! Don’tdoitdon’tdoitdon’tdoit!_

Dipper whimpered helplessly as he curled up in his bed, trying to quickly fall asleep so that he didn’t have to think about the curse. Yet, the unbearable itching sensation and the desire for it to be alleviated only grew with each passing minute, reaching to torturous levels. The boy groaned and dug his nails into his neck, trying one last time to fix the problem himself. He quickly yelped and stopped as the pain gradually assaulted his senses. _I can’t take this anymore_. _I have to do it, have to havetohaveto_. His thoughts became muddy as he clutched his neck and desperately whispered the name of his savior.

“Bill.”

The attic room suddenly became different hues of grey as a brilliant off-yellow light simultaneously lit up the room. Dipper instinctively squinted his eyes and held his free hand up to prevent becoming blinded. The light soon dissipated and a familiar figure floated listlessly near the foot of his bed.

“You rang?” said the grating voice of Bill Cipher as he twirled his black cane in his hand. He placed it down between his legs, seemingly hitting the invisible ground, and leaned over the hook of the cane mid-air to look at the crumpled over boy lying helplessly on the bed below. “Yeesh, don’t you look like a sight for sore eyes!”

Dipper quickly forgot all about his desperation as he glared up at the vampire he loathed, still clutching his burning neck, and spat with contempt, “This is all your fault!”

Bill’s eyes widened in surprise and placed a hand over his mouth to complete the feigned shocked expression. “Mine? Why, I’d never!” His expression quickly changed back to normal with a grinning smile, fangs revealed. “It’s not my fault you smell and taste so delicious.”

The boy’s cheeks reddened, embarrassed and disgusted at the repulsive thought. His neck pulsed with need as he glared daggers at the vampire floating in front of him, the glistening fangs catching his eyes. “Why are you even here?” he hissed, resisting the curse’s demands to give in.

“To see you suffer, of course!” Bill cackled, floating closer towards Dipper. “I think you look _adorable_ , struggling to resist the contract you got there,” he poked with the end of his cane at the back of Dipper’s hand that was covering the triangular mark. The boy grit his teeth and pulled back a little from the prodding stick. “Plus, here I thought you liked me, Pine Tree! After all, who was it that helplessly whispered my name just a few minutes ago?” He pulled back and placed a hand on his chin, thinking.

“Oh, right, YOU did!” Bill emphasized by lowering his voice.

Dipper scowled and was going to deny it when Bill suddenly leaned in and flicked the brunet’s forehead. Instead of feeling pain, Dipper felt a wave of electrical shocks that didn’t feel bad, per se, traveling quickly up and down his body. The boy fell forward and let out confused gasps, shaking uncontrollably as the tingling sensation quickly coursed throughout every nerve of his body.

“Hmm, how interesting,” Bill muttered to himself. He grinned sadistically, floating backwards to watch the boy writhe and struggle to comprehend his unusual bodily sensations. “Feeling good there, Pine Tree?” he asked suggestively, enjoying the show.

Dipper snapped his head up and glowered at the thought of enjoying this strange feeling that suddenly overtook his body. “No,” he tried to vehemently retaliate, but his heavy breathing made his emotion come off as weak and pitiful.

Bill smirked and leaned over his cane again. “Let’s get to the point, kid,” Bill grinned. “You desperately want these, don’t you?” He pointed with a black, gloved index finger towards his fangs. Dipper salivated at the thought of those teeth sinking into his flesh, gulping instinctively before forcing his gaze away, shaking his head in disagreement.

“I have to hand it to you, Pine Tree! Your resilience to get through these many days is admirable, but even the mighty tree must fall at some point.” Bill’s voice echoed ominously throughout the grey attic. He floated closer towards the boy, his voice quiet and low as his breath brushed against Dipper’s flushed cheeks, “I know you need it. You’re practically _dying_ to make it stop, aren’t you?” Bill chuckled softly and whispered into Dipper’s ear with a sadistic tone, “If you want it, then _beg_ for it.”

Dipper’s eyes widened at the thought. He so badly wanted to shout no and end this horrible nightmare, but as he caught a glimpse of the vampire’s fangs mere inches from his face, his neck once again flared with a craving that furiously demanded to be satisfied. The boy whimpered and gripped the sheets of his bed, his knuckles turning white. His logical mind obviously screamed no to the notion, but his body wanted it. Resisting was becoming a futile effort as he felt the intensity of the vampire’s gluttonous gaze upon him, waiting, watching, _desiring_.

_I need it._

Dipper slowly loosened his grip on his bed and quietly sat up. With the hand that had been hiding the triangle mark, he pulled back his shirt collar and tilted his head to the side to provide a clear view to the vampire. “P-please,” Dipper began, lips quivering, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and shame at his actions and words, “bite me.”

Bill stared for a brief moment before falling into a fit of laughter. Dipper looked confused, blushing even more from being so ridiculous that even the vampire was laughing at him. “ _’Bite me’_? Is that the best you could come up with?” Bill laughed, kicking his legs in the air as he clutched his stomach. “Oh man, kid,” he said, still giggling, “I thought it was going to be something more elaborate, like ‘sink your fangs into me’ or ‘drain my blood,’ but ‘ _bite me_?’ That sounds so dumb!” He howled again with laughter.

Dipper frowned and instantly buried his face in his knees, resisting the urge to cry from all sorts of emotions of regret, embarrassment, and most all, anger.

Bill soon calmed down and stood straight up within the air. “Oh, don’t look so upset, Pine Tree! Since I’m feeling so _generous_ tonight, I’ll grant you your request, even if it was poorly worded.” He leaned in closely to Dipper’s face and huskily said, “You just need to wake up first.”

Dipper’s eyes flashed opened and he saw through his blurry vision that his surroundings were no longer in its greyscale color. Was that all a bad dream? He was about to breathe a sigh of relief since he _really_ didn’t want to actually lose himself to Bill and the curse, but as he rubbed his eyes awake, he noticed a familiar golden-haired figure lean over him. The boy proceeded to scream in alarm, but a black gloved hand quickly covered his mouth. Dipper saw the owner of the palm smiling slyly over him, his free index finger over his own lips, gesturing to the boy to be quiet. “You don’t want to wake up the old man, do you?” he whispered as he adjusted his position to straddle over the boy’s smaller frame.

The boy thought about it and seemed like it would actually be a good idea to call his great uncle here to exterminate the vampire. Bill’s cat-like pupils contracted as he read the facial expressions of the boy and threatened quietly, “I mean sure, you can shout out for help, but how are you going to explain that you were the one who willingly summoned me here?”

Dipper glared and slapped away the vampire’s hand that was covering his mouth, which received a scornful look on Bill’s face, and growled angrily in a hushed tone towards the vampire, “You’re the one who broke in here!”

Bill’s eyes briefly changed to a red color as he quickly planted his hands on either side of the boy’s head and leaned over to Dipper’s left ear, biting and tugging it with his front teeth. Dipper’s body instantly froze before subsequently squirming as waves of pleasure coursed throughout his small body, the mark on his neck suddenly reminding him of his position, need, and the pitiful begging scene he had made moments ago.

The vampire, satisfied with the boy’s reaction, released his teeth and snarled into the ear, “Don’t forget that I _own_ you now.” He moved his lips downwards, close to the boy’s exposed neck, and deeply breathed in the intoxicating scent. Dipper shivered as he felt the vampire’s warm breath pass over his sensitized skin, and felt a gloved hand pull back the collar of his red shirt to further expose his tender skin.

The vampire licked up the boy’s neck, trailing from one edge of the triangle to the next. Dipper let out an uncontrolled soft moan, unable to resist the overwhelming sensations that travelled up to his brain. He began to pant heavily, a hand tightly gripping one of Bill’s arms, drunk on the pleasure that drew his logical thoughts farther and farther away from his conscious mind.

Dipper felt a fang graze lightly over his neck, sending ripples of excited nerves as the sharp teeth trailed down his neck. He shifted uncomfortably; Bill’s teasing drove his overly sensitive body crazy and only made his desire to be bitten worse. Dipper reached a hand up to the back of Bill’s head, gripping a handful of golden strands as he whimpered desperately, “Please.”

Bill growled in satisfaction and sunk his fangs into the boy’s soft flesh, greedily lapping up the sweet, crimson nectar that instantly oozed from the wounds. Dipper let out a groan of ecstasy, the previously persistent, irritating itchiness quickly replaced by one of fulfilled needs, brimming with pleasure. Everything felt good. He felt complete.

Dipper applied some pressure to the back of Bill’s head, wanting the vampire’s fangs deeper into his neck, desiring more ripples of pleasure to assault his mind. Bill flashed a glance towards the boy’s blushed face, delighted at his reaction. He complied, burying more of his sharp fangs into the soft, smooth flesh, releasing another torrent of delicious liquid onto his tongue.

Dipper felt peaceful bliss engulf his thoughts, his prior unbearable needs completely and wholly satisfied. He let out quiet whimpers of enjoyment as he heard the sucking and slurping sounds coming from below the base of his ear, a tongue lapping gently at the base of his neck every now and then. He was finally getting what his body had wanted for the past week straight, and it was an intoxicating feeling.

As the blood gradually drained from his body, Dipper grew increasingly light-headed. His grip on the vampire slowly lessened as his consciousness quickly began to fade. The vampire took the signal to withdraw his fangs from the warm, soft flesh, and proceeded to lick the wounds clean of the delectable crimson nectar that slowly dripped down the pale skin. His seemingly glowing yellow eyes gazed longingly at Dipper’s, the young boy’s eyelids struggling to stay open. Bill was happy with this result, of Dipper’s desperate need and reliance for him, and of his heavenly blood being his to savor and his alone.

“Such a good pet,” he whispered in Dipper’s ear as the boy fell into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Spring Break for me, so I hope you guys enjoy the early release of this chapter! :D The story will now resume back to weekly updates on Tuesdays!
> 
> Also, just a fair warning... Next chapter release will result in more tags and rating changes because reasons.


	7. Pain and Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, **PLEASE** read the new tags! There are a LOT of potential triggers in this chapter alone and I cannot emphasize ENOUGH to prepare yourself if you're adverse to said tagged things. I will section off the trigger scene with ~*~*~*~ and provide a summary in the End Notes for those that do not want to read the scene because of triggers. That being said, if you read the end notes first, you're essentially spoiling yourself. :| Don't do it.

Dipper opened his eyes slowly as his circadian rhythm reminded him of the arrival of dawn. His head felt fuzzy, not quite ready for the day. He instinctively turned his head to the side, expecting to see Mabel lying facedown, drooling onto her pillow. Instead, he saw nothing except a haphazard mess of bundled up sheets and a few colorful stuffed toys strewn around the bed. He suddenly remembered the entire events of the last night, how Mabel left to gather supplies and how he let himself give in to the curse.

He shot straight out of his bed and ran down the hallway into the bathroom. He stopped in front of the mirror, looking at his neck. It was flawless, with the exception of the triangle tattoo that was still there. Something definitely wasn’t right. Healing shouldn’t be this quick, especially when he remembered feeling the fangs pierce his skin deeper than the first time. The boy shuddered, grossed out and disappointed in himself for actually wanting and _liking_ it at that moment in time.

“No,” he whispered to himself as he turned on the faucet and splashed his face with cold water. “It wasn’t you, Dipper, it was this _stupid_ curse!” He glared at the mirror, more so at the mark than the mirror itself. While he stood there in silent rage, he felt the itching feeling slowly reemerge and his anger quickly turned into one of fear. Was it never going to go away? Did he have to relive this nightmare of caving to his desires, giving himself to Bill every week? He felt his stomach turn, nausea sweeping over him as he realized how hopeless this situation really was.

 

Dipper walked towards the kitchen and saw Ford sitting at the dining table, reading a newspaper. “Good morning, Dipper,” the older male said, not looking up from his papers.

“Good morning, Grunkle Ford,” Dipper replied cheerlessly, opening a cabinet to take out a box of sugar-coated cereal. He placed it on the center of the table and fetched the milk from the fridge, as well as a clean bowl and spoon, before sitting down. Ford sipped from his mug of coffee while the boy poured cereal and milk into the bowl.

Dipper poked at his submerged cereal with the spoon before asking, “Grunkle Ford, have you figured out a way to reverse the curse yet?”

“Hmm?” Ford set down his coffee and looked curiously at the boy. “Sorry, Dipper, but I haven’t found anything. Why do you ask? Is it bothering you?”

 _Oh, you know, it’s like having a mosquito bite you can’t itch or get rid of at all, no big deal._ “Not really,” the boy responded, seeking out to drown the persistent floating piece of sugary cereal that refused to join its soaked brethren. He felt dejected that there was no good news to a cure.

There was a brief moment of silence as Ford eyed the lackadaisical boy. “Oh,” was the only response the older male could utter before returning his focus back to the newspaper.

Dipper forced down a spoonful of his breakfast, not in the mood for an overdose of sugar this morning. How does Mabel manage to do this every day? He sighed and asked, “What happens when a vampire drinks your blood?”

Ford set down his paper and stared at the boy intently. “Did something happen last night?” he asked seriously, suspicions taking hold.

The boy shrunk back in his seat a little, suddenly alarmed at the sudden tension in the air. “N-no! I was just… thinking about when I got bitten last week.”

He watched nervously as the older male squinted through his glasses, as if trying to ascertain the truth to his words. Ford muttered, “Is that so?...” Dipper gulped and quickly took another bite of his cereal to try act natural. After a brief moment of tense silence, Ford picked up his newspaper and spoke normally, “Well, I’m not too sure how vampires metabolize blood, but I do know that it’s the source of their energy. Generally, the more blood they obtain, the stronger their physical abilities. Of course, there is a limit to that since apparently drinking too much blood will lead to vampire obesity, although that’s an extremely rare sight.”

“Vampires can get fat?” Dipper asked, raising a brow.

Ford shrugged, looking genuinely confused himself. “I’ve only seen it recorded in a few entries, but I have never seen it personally, no.”

Dipper briefly wondered if Bill would ever get fat. Maybe he should keep giving his blood over just to see it… He shook his head and mentally slapped himself for the mere thought of doing such a grotesque thing and took another bite of his mostly-soggy sugary cereal.

“How often do vampires have to drink blood?” the boy asked, genuinely curious. He vaguely remembered Bill making a comment last night that he shouldn’t have lasted about a week with the curse, so does that mean he was expected to give blood almost every single day?

Ford stared off to the side, thinking. “I think it was… about once every two to three weeks? I think it depends on various factors, such as the quantity and quality of the last feeding as well as the metabolism levels of the vampire itself.” He looked curiously at the boy. “Are you worried about Bill?”

 _Two weeks?_ _But it’s only been one!_ Dipper rubbed the side of his neck uncomfortably. And if this curse meant he would normally donate every few days, that just seemed a bit excessive. “A little bit, yeah,” he remarked as he took another mouthful of his cereal.

“Hmm,” Ford gazed at the mark on his grand-nephew’s neck. “He might be waiting for you to go to him, Dipper. After all, that’s the nature of the curse.” He paused. “You haven’t had any… tempting thoughts, have you?”

“No…” the boy mumbled, knowing full well he was lying. He instantly picked up the bowl and began gulping the remaining milk down.

“It’s alright if you have, Dipper.”

“I haven’t, honest!” Dipper replied a little defensively, quickly setting down his emptied bowl and instantly went to take a big gulp of his orange juice.

Ford looked worriedly at the boy before they heard the front door slam open. Mabel’s voice shouted, “WE’RE BACK!”

“We’re in here!” Ford called out from the kitchen. They heard a mixture of heavy footsteps and lighter, hasty steps trod through the living room. Within seconds, they saw the unusually enthusiastic pink-sweater-wearing girl bouncing excitedly next to the tired, grumpy-looking older male.

“Here,” Stan said grimly, dropping two bags of what appeared to be a bag of sparkling dust and a bag of grungy-looking mushrooms.

Dipper frowned at the ingredients. “What is that?” he asked, poking at the bag of oddly-shaped mushrooms before Ford picked them up with a smile on his face.

“This is fairy dust and this is Gremloblin fungi,” Ford answered, showing Dipper the glittery particles and bag of mushrooms respectively. “All we have to do is grind up a mushroom and sprinkle some fairy dust on it to fix the broken part of the spell circle.”

“Gremloblin?” Dipper looked at his twin sister whose eyes looked extremely dilated. “Uh, Mabel? Did you get enough sleep last night?”

“NOPE!” she shouted, giggling and seemed like she would start doing cartwheels if there was enough space in the kitchen to do so. “I drank Mabel shots all night while we caught fairies and snuck up on sleeping monsters!”

“And kept nagging me and overall making the process very difficult,” Stan grumbled tiredly as he left the room, presumably to take a nap in his bed.

Ford had procured a journal to which he turned to the entry labeled “Gremloblin: Half Gremlin, Half Goblin.” Dipper looked at the fantastic artwork incredulously. “Whoa!” the boy exclaimed, reading it in closer detail. “This is real?!”

“Well, if vampires are real, I don’t see why monsters aren’t real either,” Ford replied casually as he sifted through the cabinets for a mortar and pestle.

Dipper paused and said, “Oh, right.” He returned to poring over the journal entry, absorbing as much information as he could.

“Grunkle Ford, when are we going to do training?” Mabel nearly shouted, trying to restrain herself as she jittered up and down the room.

Ford had found his ceramic tools and began grinding a relatively large piece of fungi in the bowl. “There’ll be no training today, Mabel,” he said calmly. “Instead, I want you two to chop up some firewood.”

“WHAT? That’s soooo booooriiiing!” Mabel cried out, slumping onto a chair dramatically to emphasize her point.

The older male began sprinkling a pinch of fairy dust into the finely ground mixture. “It may be boring, but if you want to, then you may consider it as a form of physical training.”

Mabel sprung back up. “OKAY THEN!” she exclaimed, grabbing her brother’s arm roughly and pulled him off his chair. “C’mon bro, let’s go TRAINING!”

“Ack, wait, Mabel!” Dipper whined as he was forcefully dragged off of his seat and out of the kitchen. “Where are we even going?!”

“Outside, silly!” she grinned as she led her reluctant twin out of the kitchen, keeping a vice grip on her brother’s arm.

“Oh, wait!” Ford called out. The twins stopped and looked at their great uncle with confused looks. “Before you go out… here, wear this.” He held out his arms, displaying two necklaces made up of garlic bulbs that were stringed together.

Mabel looked at them with awe and quickly placed one on top of her neck. “WHOAAA! I smell like garlic bread now!” She giggled to herself and ran around the room with her arms outstretched to her side like a human airplane.

“Garlic?” Dipper covered his nose as he took a whiff of the pungent thing from a mere foot away. “You want me to wear _that_?”

“It’s very effective for warding off vampires,” Ford suggested. “They have sensitive noses, you know. They won’t be able to detect your scent and should avoid you.”

The boy looked skeptically at his great uncle before reluctantly putting on the necklace. The strong scent only became stronger and he struggled to breathe. “Ugh,” he groaned. “Why do I have to wear this now?”

“Because I’m going to leave you kids unsupervised for today,” Ford said as he went back to the kitchen to pick up mortar. “Even though you won’t be far from the shack, you’ll still be outside of the barrier and I want you to be as safe as you can be. Oh, and don’t forget to bring your weapons just in case you have to defend yourself.” He glanced at Dipper, who took the words of caution to be mostly directed towards him.

Mabel was already out of the house, running past the barrier and past the large tree stump with an axe lodged in it. “I’M GOING TO GET THE LOGS OKAY BYEEE!” she yelled as her frame disappeared into the nearby woods.

Dipper breathed through his mouth as he went upstairs, fetched his pistol, and went back downstairs and outside of the shack towards the wood cutting area. He so badly wanted to take off the garlic necklace as its strong scent was making his stomach sick, and he had a strong feeling that the scent would linger on his clothes forever if he kept it on for a minute longer. Where did Ford even keep these hidden at in the shack?

Mabel had already returned from the forest with a small pile of logs in her arms. “Did you know there’s just a whole wheelbarrow full of these just sitting near the road on the way to the shack?” she gleefully asked, throwing them down next to the large stump.

“Uh, Mabel?” Dipper asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not… stealing from some lumberjacks?”

“What?!” She blew a raspberry and waved her hand as if it was nothing and turned around to go fetch more logs. “I’m sure it’s just some nice person who left a bunch of wood for us to gather and cut up!”

The boy lifted up one of the wooden logs and balanced it on the center of the stump. “Sure it is…” he sarcastically agreed as she gleefully ran off into the forest again.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Dipper had been chopping the wood at a rather slow pace for a while as the sun’s rays beat down heavily on his pale, sweaty skin. He swung down the axe and managed to chop the log clean in half with one blow, a surprise considering he had to swing the axe down multiple times earlier to successfully chop one. “Phew! I think I’m finally getting better at this!” the boy sighed proudly, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. He frowned at the liquid now on the back of his hand that he could have sworn smells like garlic. “Ugh,” he groaned as he took off the damp garlic necklace and set it down next to him on the ground. It’ll still do its job of preventing if it’s just near him, right?

He placed another log onto the center of the stump when he remembered that he can’t recall when he had last seen Mabel with another shipment of logs for him. He glanced warily at the large pile of uncut wood next to the stump compared to the small pile he had made on the other side from the successfully chopped wood.  It’s not like he needed more logs, but he was worried about her safety. Gravity Falls was crawling with vampires and monsters after all.

Dipper turned around to face the forest behind him. “Mabel?” he called out. “Mabel, are you out there?”

He waited for a response. The only noises he heard were the birds singing their lullabies and the breeze that gently shook the leaves of the tall trees. Dipper frowned and decided to venture into the woods in the direction he had last seen Mabel traverse.

“Mabel!” Dipper called out continuously as he walked past the numerous tall trees and bushes. He had no idea where she could be, and the uncertainty was making him extremely nervous. “Please be safe…” he mumbled to himself as he scanned the woods more frantically, trying to find any hint or indication of his energetic sister.

“Oh, she’s alright,” spoke a distant voice from behind. Dipper instantly tensed as he recognized the owner of that voice. His neck suddenly flared with need, but Dipper suppressed the thoughts of desire that were quickly infiltrating his mind.

The boy whipped around, pistol ready in his hands. He saw Bill perched on top of a low-hanging branch from a nearby tree only a few meters away, standing out from the greens and browns with his outlandish yellow tailcoat. Dipper instantly aimed his gun at the vampire and pulled back on the slide, loading his gun.

“My, my,” Bill said nonchalantly, eyes closed as he lounged back into the trunk of the tree with his legs propped up on the branch. “A little feisty today, aren’t we? And after we shared such a tender moment last night.” The golden-haired figure cracked open one eye and grinned provocatively at the boy.

Dipper scowled and placed his index finger on the trigger. “What did you do with Mabel?!”

“Relax, kid,” Bill leapt down from the branch, landing on the ground as gracefully as a cat. Dipper followed the movements of the vampire with his gun, wary. The vampire stood straight up and patted down his black slacks before waving a hand in the air, releasing a few sparks of blue flame as he spawned a glass orb that sat neatly in his palm. “I didn’t do anything to Shooting Star. Why don’t you see for yourself?” He grinned mischievously, tossing the orb up and down as he walked towards the watchful boy.

“Don’t. Move.” Dipper warned.

The vampire narrowed his eyes with contempt. “Who do you think you’re giving commands to?” Bill’s voice was low and dark as he continued his advancement unabated. Dipper trembled slightly as he stared into those suddenly icy, cold eyes that threatened to tear him apart. “I _was_ going to be nice today, Pine Tree, but it seems like instead, I’m going to have to teach you some _respect_.” Bill had stopped in his stride, a mere foot away from the boy, his emphasized words dripping with venom at its intensity.

Dipper’s gun was at point-blank range just below the vampire’s chest area, yet he couldn’t muster the strength to pull the trigger. His arms trembled as he continued to gaze into the sharp, piercing eyes that looked down at him hungrily like a predator. He couldn't look away. He was afraid.

“Drop it.”

The boy instantly let go of the gun, letting it fall down onto the soft earth below.

With his free hand, Bill roughly grabbed Dipper’s hair, tilting the frightened boy’s head back. Dipper whimpered, initially expecting pain, but instead felt a tingling sensation course through his scalp. “I don’t think you realize the position you’re in.” Bill bent his torso down slightly, still continuing to glare at the helpless child. “You’re my _pet_ now, and you are at _my_ mercy. A pet doesn’t give commands to its master, unless…” Bill released the boy’s soft brown hair from his hand before swiftly wrapping his fingers around the boy’s neck, squeezing the warm flesh in his hands. His grin widened to unnatural lengths across his face as he proceeded to strangle the struggling boy. “… It has a death wish.”

Dipper tried to claw at the arm constricting his airflow with his small hands, desperately trying to free himself as he tried to gasp for air. He released out some choked sounds before feeling the long fingers around his neck tighten even more, completely blocking any sort of air flow in or out. His brain felt like it was going to explode, the pressure in his head gradually increasing like the interior of a pressure cooker, reaching to dangerously high levels. His eyes felt like they were going to pop straight out of his sockets at any second. The birds that chirped melodiously in the forest were replaced with the rapid, loud beating of his heart as he panicked, unsure of his fate. He looked helplessly at Bill’s sadistic, widened eyes as his vision slowly darkened around the edges.

Bill loosened his grip as he saw the child begin to fall towards unconsciousness, but still had his fingers wrapped around the delicate flesh threateningly. Dipper instinctively took the opportunity to cough and gasp for air, the pressure from his head somewhat released from its unbearable levels.

“So, what will it be, Pine Tree?” the vampire asked, his demonic grin changing back to a regular, sadistic smirk. “Do you choose death, or do you choose permanent obedience?”

The brunet glared back at the vampire as he croaked out, “I’d rather _die_ than obey _you_.”

“So the death wish it is, then.” Bill’s expression became more amused. “Shall we begin with the slaughtering of your precious sister?” Bill glanced over at the orb in his hands. Dipper widened his eyes, the words soaking into his hazy mind, as he apprehensively followed the vampire’s gaze. He watched the glass twist its reflections into a swirled green, brown, and blue mess before revealing a distorted image of Mabel sleeping peacefully by a wheelbarrow of uncut firewood.

“N-no, not Mabel!” Dipper choked as the grip around his neck tightened just a little, allowing him enough leeway to barely breathe and speak. He glanced desperately at the orb before looking back at Bill, whimpering barely audible words through his constricted trachea, “P-please! I’ll… I’ll obey, just don’t hurt her!”

Bill smirked, releasing the boy’s neck and waved the orb magically away in blue flames. “Very well, then.” He watched Dipper fall to the ground, coughing violently while rubbing his neck from the bruises that were forming from the strangulation. “Prove your loyalty to me. Place your hands on that tree.” He pointed at the nearest pine tree just a few feet away from their location.

Dipper looked apprehensively at the tree, uncertain of what the sadistic vampire had in mind to “prove his loyalty.” Yet, he knew very well that he couldn’t run away or retaliate, no matter how much he wanted to. Mabel’s life was on the line. He stumbled over towards the tree, still feeling rather light-headed, and placed his hands, fingers spread apart, on top of the rough, uneven bark. “L-like this?” he coughed out, his throat still raw from the mistreatment, and glanced cautiously over his shoulder towards the vampire that was standing directly behind him.

“Yep, just like that,” Bill mused. “Keep it there. Now, let’s see… which one, which one?” Bill hummed to himself as he examined each small, delicate-looking finger.

“W-what are you going to do?” he nervously asked, digging his nails into the bark with anticipation.

“Oh, nothing much,” Bill said as he reached around the brunet’s waist. The boy yelped in surprise from the sudden assault around his hips. Bill fondled around the waistline of Dipper’s shorts before finding what he was looking for on the right side of the belt loops, hidden underneath the boy’s shirt. He pulled out the silver-bladed dagger that had been sheathed in leather and examined it carefully, holding the black glossy handle with his right hand. Dipper’s back tensed as he could only imagine what the vampire was going to do to him with the silver blade that was now in his hands.

“What wonderful craftsmanship,” Bill admired the shiny sharp object in his hands. “Perfect for killing vampires, and…” He flashed a glance at Dipper’s tense hands. “Perfect for _punishing pets_.”

Within a matter of milliseconds of processing that statement, Dipper watched with unanticipated horror as Bill swiftly swung the sharpened blade directly into his right pinky finger, making a clean slice through his skin and second knuckle. Time seemed to slow down immensely as he watched the severed piece of his digit fly off of his hand, the maniacal vampire cackling hysterically in the background, before a sudden wave of intense pain shot throughout his entire body. It felt like acid, spreading like a rapid wildfire throughout every nerve in his body. His brain was suddenly overwhelmed by the influx of pain signals that seemingly came from everywhere, even though it had clearly and logically could only have originated from his bleeding finger.

Dipper let out an agonizing scream, his remaining intact fingers clawing into the rough bark as he collapsed down onto his knees, involuntarily voiding his bladder in the process as his bodily systems failed to function normally from the sudden damage. His scream eventually tapered off and was replaced with uncontrollable sobs, the pain still very much emanating from his severed finger. Everything hurt. Physical, mental, everything. Was he dying?

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Bill sneered, “The first blood this blade tastes isn’t a vampire’s, but the hunter’s!” He laughed as he watched the boy slump forwards, unable to keep himself upright as his body failed to respond after the torrent of pain had shocked his nerves. “Shame though. This blood is going to be wasted.” Bill looked sadly at the silver blade that dripped with the sweet-smelling crimson liquid.

“No…” Dipper sobbed, his pitiful voice muffled as he could only face the tree. “No more…”

“Hmm?” Bill coldly eyed the boy once more. He knelt down and gripped the top of the brunet’s head again, pulling back to see the tear-stained face of the trembling boy. “What was that? Another command?” he growled, positioning the knife over Dipper’s left pinky threateningly.

Dipper weakly shook his head, the tingling sensation from his scalp quickly overtaking his brain’s previous numbness. “N-no,” he whimpered, “I-I’m a good pet.” Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. He begged through choked sobs, “Just please… no more pain.”

“That’s not convincing enough,” Bill grinned as he dragged the dagger above the second knuckle, slicing the thin, soft skin with ease. Blood trickled from the wound and down the boy’s palm, soaking into the bark. He felt the boy jolt beneath his hand and utter a strangled cry as the torturous pain coursed up his arm. “After all, how would I know if you’ve learned your lesson?” He slowly slid the blade back-and-forth, grinding the sharp metal deeper into the exposed bone and the surrounding flesh and nerves.

Dipper convulsed and cried out from the constant, unbearable pain signals that assaulted his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying that all of this was just a terrible nightmare that he could wake up from. Yet, shutting his eyes only accentuated the pain and made everything feel worse. He opened his wet eyes, glancing helplessly through his blurred vision at the sadistic vampire who was leaning over his shoulder. Dipper’s mouth hung open, drool dribbling down his chin as he continued to let out guttural cries of agony.

“P-please,” Dipper finally managed to plead in a fit of desperation, “I… I won’t… won’t order. I’m… pet, loyal…” His voice cracked between sobs as he struggled to make out coherent enough words. His brain felt like it had turned into mush, unable to do any form of higher thinking. He only wanted to make the torture stop.

Bill’s eyes softened as he looked into the glassy-eyed expression of the brunet. He thrust the dagger into the bark above the tortured boy’s head and released his grip on the brunet’s hair before warmly embracing the sobbing boy from behind with both hands. “Seems it was too much to bear, huh, Dipper?” Bill softly asked into the boy’s left ear, nuzzling the bruised neck, breathing in the boy’s strong, divine scent that now permeated the air around them from the spilled blood.

Dipper felt the mark on his neck warm up as the vampire made contact. Through his hazy and slowly returning thoughts, he managed to comprehend that Bill had just spoken his name (well, more like his nickname, but it’s still more personal than “Pine Tree”). When had he even told him his name, anyway? He blearily watched as Bill reached his hand over towards his cut-up finger. Was he finally pitying him? Was he finally going to show him mercy for being so obedient?

“You deserve a reward.” Bill whispered sweetly into the boy’s ear. Dipper felt hope bubbling inside of him as he heard those words. He was finally going to be released. However, the brunet's eyes widened with disbelief as he watched the vampire dig his index finger and thumb into the sides of his wounded pinky with sharpened nails, feeling the soft, warm and bloody flesh and exposed bone. Dipper was expecting another wave of pain to rack his body, but no such thing happened. Instead, his body shuddered and he let out a sound he never expected to come out of his mouth from such a horrifying event: a moan.

Bill smirked as he watched the facial expressions of the boy alternate between one of pained horror to one of uninhibited pleasure. This wasn’t natural, definitely not. It should hurt. Logically, that is. But it didn’t. It felt surprisingly really _good_ and that sickened him. “W-wha—“ Dipper managed to choke out before crying out in ecstasy as another wave of pleasure traveled throughout his body after he heard a sickening crack.

“Just as I thought,” the vampire chuckled, tugging the piece of finger he had just disjointed from the rest of the hand, yet it still remained connected through a thin, loose flap of bloodied skin. The boy wriggled in his grasp as he let out loud groans of enjoyment from the sensitive nerves that still held his mutilated pinky together. “The contract made you overly sensitive to pain, but when it comes to a direct injury from me…” In one swift movement, he completely ripped off the loose piece of finger, detaching the broken segment from the rest of the hand at last, and listened with delight as Dipper moaned loudly and thrust himself violently backwards into the sadistic vampire’s arms. “… You become a masochist.”

Bill giggled as he felt the boy writhe in his arms. He stared at the detached finger he was still holding, seeing the delectable crimson liquid dripping slowly from the jagged, torn flesh. The vampire grinned and placed the still-warm digit in his mouth and bit down on the raw meat, releasing the heavenly juices from their confined skin prison and onto his tongue. He groaned to himself, lost in gluttonous pleasure as he continued to tear off chunks with his teeth, devouring and swallowing bits of the sweet flesh. “You taste  _really_  good, Pine Tree,” Bill hummed as he chewed and stripped the bone of its meat. He spat out the bones, tendons, and nail, considering he couldn’t digest those. “I don’t usually eat flesh, considering it doesn’t really help me in any way, but…” The vampire nuzzled the boy’s neck and softly said, “You’re just too addicting.”

Dipper struggled to comprehend anything at this point, unable to process that Bill just savored his finger. His brain felt completely broken, all form of logical thought and self-identity shattered beyond belief. First he felt intense and unbearable pain, but within seconds he’s now experiencing bliss and pleasure? From having his finger _torn_ off, nonetheless? His young brain can't handle that sort of mixed signalling. He whimpered weakly as Bill leaned into his neck and licked it delicately.

“I’ve never expected to have this much fun with a pet,” Bill whispered, gently nibbling the surface of the sensitive neck. The boy let out unrestrained gasps as the itch in his neck rapidly reached its unbearable levels similar to the night before.

“B-Bill,” Dipper cried pleadingly as he willingly tilted his head to the side, granting further access and desiring something more.

“Yes, my pet?” Bill purred, leaving a loving kiss onto the center of the triangular mark that was now so exposed.

“Please…” Dipper whined, shivering from the interactions on his neck. More tears trailed down his cheeks as he understood the meaning of his actions, yet he was too powerless to resist the demands of the curse. “I... I want your fangs inside of me.” He felt so ashamed once he uttered those words, but that emotion quickly faded as he felt Bill’s sharp teeth pierce through his delicate skin. Dipper stifled his moans, gripping the bark he had been holding on so faithfully even tighter. He felt the fangs sink deeply into his flesh, his nerves going wild as they relayed messages of pleasure up to his exhausted brain. He didn’t want to like this, he didn’t want to beg and obey this horrific creature that greedily fed off of his blood. Yet… He _needed_ this.

Bill pulled the warm boy closer to his own chest, sucking up the liquid that trickled out of the wounds. He hadn’t planned on this course of action today, but the cute whimpers and pleads that came out of the kid’s mouth was just too much to resist. He could feel the boy tremble in his arms. He could hear the sweet, soft moans and rapid panting of his pet as Dipper leaned willingly into his fangs, desiring more against his rational mind. This was going better than he had originally planned.

The vampire slid his fangs out of the warm flesh after a few gulps, having obtained enough for one day, and delicately cleaned off the wound with his tongue. Dipper shuddered, already missing the feeling of the fangs in his neck, much to his own chagrin. The vampire released the boy from his embrace and stepped backwards some. His voice was back to its cheery, irritating tone, “Well, until next time, my faithful pet!” He laughed mockingly and leapt up into the treetops, quickly fading away from sight.

The brunet stared blankly at the tree bark directly in front of him for quite some time, feeling numb both mentally and physically. He felt filthy. His wet shorts, his torso, his maimed hands, his slick and bruised neck, and especially the disgusting words and noises that he had uttered from his dirty mouth in the heat of the moment. Why was all of this happening to him? It just wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to be a pet. He just wanted to be Dipper Pines. To return back to his home in Piedmont, to see his happy parents and cheery sister, his best friend. Dipper weakly looked up at the weapon lodged in the tree above him. Perhaps… he can end this nightmare once and for all. Forever.

He managed to find enough strength to push himself off of the ground, disgusted at his damp shorts. He reached up to pull out the dagger when he saw his bloodstained finger. It didn’t hurt anymore and instead, looked to be healing as a fresh layer of skin had covered up the once-exposed bone and red flesh. Dipper frowned at it, watching it cautiously for a minute or two, only to find that it seemed to be slowly but surely growing back into a finger.

Dipper stepped back, arms outstretched as he watched with horror at his inhuman regeneration. This wasn’t natural. No human should just _grow_ parts of their body back. He could feel the panic rising up from his chest as he watched as both of his removed fingers were indeed regenerating slowly, the one on his right more far along in healing than the one on the left. “No, no,” Dipper breathed out with increasing rapidity as he looked at the alien nubs.

He quickly reached over to touch his neck where Bill had bitten him. He couldn’t feel anything but his smooth skin, sticky and crusty from the dried up blood and saliva.

_This isn’t real, is it?_

Dipper panicked and glanced up at the dagger.

_You’re not human._

He ripped it out of the tree and aimed the pointed, crimson-dyed silver metal at the part of his chest he thought his heart was located.

_End it._

He breathed heavily, watching his chest fall up and down rapidly as the dagger shook violently in his trembling hands.

_End the nightmare. Enditenditenditendit!_

Dipper took in one last deep, shaky breath, a tear rolling down his cheek as he pulled his arms away from his body, steadying them. “I’m so sorry, Mabel, everyone…” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut, and plunged the dagger directly towards his heart.

_YOU CAN’T._

His hands suddenly stopped, seemingly hitting an invisible wall, as the loud, indiscernible and inhuman voice echoed in his mind. Dipper opened his eyes and saw the dagger a few millimeters away from penetrating his skin. “W-why?” he wailed, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he attempted once more, only to find himself once again stopped by some strange force.

“Please!” he cried, falling once more to his knees as he weakly tried to thrust the knife into his chest multiple times. “Whoever you are, please, I don’t want to live this way!” He looked up at the bright blue sky, sobbing pitifully as he hoped for any sort of response.

There was no voice that came to his aid. He sniffled and crumpled over, having thrown the bloodstained dagger off to the side as he clutched himself, crying in the lonely, dark woods.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Mabel sleepily opened up her eyes, struggling to wake herself up as her eyelids felt heavy from sheer exhaustion. She rubbed her eyes and saw her brother, his back facing towards her, chopping up firewood at the stump. She looked up at the once-clear blue skies that was now a semi-cloudy orange hue. Last she remembered, she was off picking up firewood when she decided to take a quick nap. Did Dipper find and move her closer to the shack? “G’morning, bro,” she yawned and stretched, standing up from the tree she was leaning against.

Dipper turned around and weakly smiled. “You awake now, sleepyhead?” he asked, attempting to sound light-hearted, as she teetered groggily over towards him.

“Sorta,” she mumbled as she approached her twin. “You’ve been busy, I see,” she happily commented, surprised at the large pile of chopped wood beside the stump. “How long was I out for?”

“Long enough for me to catch up,” he laughed hollowly.

Mabel furrowed her brows and gazed at her brother with concern. “Hey… you alright, Dippingsauce?” she asked worriedly, looking at him up and down. He didn’t _seem_ injured in any way. In fact, he seemed to have just taken a shower with how damp his hair was. Or was that sweat? But his clothes looked surprisingly clean and unstained if it were sweat.

Dipper looked into her worried eyes and quickly averted his gaze, setting the axe down onto the stump. “I’m fine,” he said quietly, his hoarse voice threatening to waver. He wasn’t fine at all. He felt like he had died ten times over, he had basically promised to be Bill’s pet forever, and he couldn’t even take his own life, which also wouldn’t have been fair to her in the slightest if he had succeeded. Nothing was fine. And he couldn’t tell Mabel a single thing. He didn’t want her to worry. About Bill, about him. He had to keep her safe. Protect her.

Mabel frowned and, without another word, hugged her brother. Dipper voiced a sound of surprise and almost stumbled backwards from the sudden embrace. She smelled the shampoo from his hair. She knew her brother more than anyone. He hardly showered unless he needed to. So why was he suddenly so clean, so sullen-looking? What happened while she was asleep?

Dipper trembled in her arms and clutched his sister’s back, stifling any sobs that dared to come out as he tightly hugged her back. He looked down at his hands, where his severed fingers have regenerated completely into normal pinkies. Was he even human anymore? Was he still Dipper Pines?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Summary:** Dipper's mark makes him overly sensitive to pain. The exception to that rule is that when Bill does a direct injury on Dipper, Dipper becomes a super masochist. Dipper also cannot take his own life.
> 
> Soooo. Yeeep. This chapter honestly wasn't supposed to turn out as dark and twisted as it did BUT HEY THAT'S HOW IT GOES SOMETIMES.
> 
> On another note, since this chapter is about twice as long as my usual chapters, I _may_ not update next week because of a minor writer's block issue right now. However, I will try keeping to my once-a-week schedule but I want to give a heads up and apologize in advance if I cannot make it to next week's deadline. :c


	8. Investigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK, this time with 100% more Freud!

Dipper walked through the calm, warm forest alongside his sister, chatting excitedly about the mysteries of Gravity Falls. Mabel giggled at his enthusiasm, listening and watching her brother gesticulate frantically as he blathered on about the monsters lurking in the forest, the eccentric townsfolk, the unusual shape of the town, and pretty much anything odd about Gravity Falls.

When he had exhausted his immediate list of topics to talk about, there was a brief moment of mutual silence as they continued along the trail. There was one last subject he hadn’t touched upon yet: vampires. Dipper hesitated for a short moment before he began to talk once more, to admit everything that has happened thus far, about all of his secret encounters with Bill and his mistakes. Yet, as soon as he uttered a single word, the woods rapidly darkened, the air became chilled and stagnant, and he felt something cold wrap around his neck and pull him backwards roughly.

“Agh!” Dipper’s voice cracked out as he was dragged against his will, his kicking heels scraping the dirt as he traveled. He reached a desperate hand out towards his sister, who was quickly becoming farther and farther away from him until she and the forest became a blip in his vision, finding himself in the all-too-familiar black, empty void.

His movements stilled, and he was left sitting on the invisible black floor within this seemingly empty space. Dipper looked down at himself, finding a glowing blue collar around his neck. He felt a harsh tug from the side and yelped in alarm as he fell down onto his hands, completely vulnerable and powerless. A familiar, demonic laugh reverberated off of the black walls of the void and sent a chill down Dipper’s spine as he glanced fearfully upwards. Before him was a grinning Bill Cipher, holding onto a light-blue glowing leash that connected directly to the dark-blue pine tree-shaped tag on his collar.

“Miss me, my pet?” Bill taunted, eyes gazing down at the trembling boy with amusement.

Dipper hated and feared this inhuman creature before him. Bill was the enemy, yet he was powerless to disobey, and that made him angry and upset with himself. But, he couldn’t just sit idly by and be this sadistic vampire’s pet. He managed to steady himself and grit his teeth. “Not a chance, Bill,” he hissed, glaring up at the vampire.

Bill chuckled. “Seems you still have some spunk in you, huh kid?” He leaned in closer towards the boy’s face. “That just means you’ll continue to be fun.” The vampire grinned as Dipper scowled back at him. “But don’t forget that you promised me your loyalty, Pine Tree. Remember, obey or your sister dies first.”

In the far distance behind Bill, Dipper could see Mabel smiling at him, waving her hands in the air ecstatically. Within seconds, he saw her expression change to a horrified one as she suddenly coughed up blood, a large gash streaked across her torso. She collapsed down to her knees and then onto her bleeding stomach, a shaky hand reaching out towards him while whispering sadly, “Why, Dipper?”

The brunet squeezed his eyes shut and snapped his head down, hands over his ears as he repeatedly shouted, “NO!” He just wanted everything to stop, to wake up from this horrible dream, to return to the reality where he knew Mabel was safe, sleeping, peaceful. Yet, from the previous nights of similar haunting nightmares, he knew that Bill wouldn’t let him. Bill was pleased with Dipper’s reaction and snapped away the apparition away from the mindscape.

Dipper sobbed, “Why me?” He lifted his tired head slowly up towards the vampire, his moist eyes pleading for any sort of proper answer. Why was he subject to this torture? Why couldn’t he escape from it all?

Bill knelt down and placed a hand on the boy’s cheek, gently brushing his thumb over the soft, damp skin as he wiped away the fresh tear that was rolling down from those chocolate eyes. “Because you’re special,” Bill spoke softly and sweetly, as if trying to calm a frightened dog.

“I’m not,” Dipper hiccupped as the adult’s finger delicately touched his skin. “I’m just a normal twelve-year old boy. I’m not special. I don’t deserve this treatment.” He sniffled, his hands balled up into fists on the black ground, his knuckles white. “Please, let me go,” he begged, his voice worn and tired from all of the screaming and sobbing.

Bill’s smirking expression seemed to falter for a split second as he listened to the desperate pleading of the boy. He quickly returned to his original composure and chuckled. “Ah, Pine Tree, Pine Tree,” he mumbled as he stood up. “No can do! You’re too important to simply let free. That’s why I have this,” the vampire tugged on the leash, pulling a reluctant Dipper forwards a little, “and why you can’t tell your family about our little affair.”

Dipper’s stomach turned. He hated this situation with such a fiery passion. He hated being weak, useless, and helpless. In retrospect, he really should have told his great-uncles and Mabel all about the problems before it spiraled out of his control, before he caved in. But, it was too late now. He was Bill’s pet, whether he liked it or not, and he had to obey. Deep down, he realized that as soon as he had willingly begged to be bitten that very first evening.

“You really should call me ‘Master’ or ‘Owner’ like a proper pet would, you know?” Bill commented casually, seemingly responding to the boy’s thoughts.

Dipper snapped up his head and growled vehemently, “Over my dead body.” He may have to obey this sadistic creature, but he wasn’t going to demean himself further.

The vampire laughed, “It was a _joke_ , kid. I don’t need your formalities added to the ones I’m already receiving from the commons.” He tugged on the leash again, once more pulling the boy closer towards him as he bent his torso down to face eye-to-eye with his pet. “Although, it would be pretty cute.”

The boy glowered, wanting to spit angrily at the vampire’s face, but resisted his strong desire to do so. Bill chuckled, amused at the expression, and looked up into the vast, black void that surrounded them. “Seems our time is up,” he grinned as he gazed back down at the boy. “See you soon, kid!”

Dipper awoke to find the sun’s gentle rays were just starting to peek out from beyond the horizon, filtering its warm light through the trees and through the triangular-shaped window of the attic. For once in the past few nights, he didn’t wake up panicking in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. It was a nice surprise, but as he motioned to get up, his neck quickly resumed its itching feeling. He sighed sadly, clutching the burning flesh with a hand as it painfully reminded him of his hopeless situation.

 

“We’re not training today?” Mabel chirped as she and her brother stood in the living room before their great uncles.

“Not today,” Ford spoke as he paced in front of the twins, “for you see, we have been getting increasing reports of vampire attacks within Gravity Falls. Most are on the tourists—“

“Which hurts _my_ business,” Grunkle Stan briefly interrupted from his leaning position against the wall, close to the front door.

“—and as Stanley said, if word goes out that vampire attacks are becoming more frequent here, that damages our revenues from the Mystery Shack. We assume that since the attacks are predominantly on the tourists, the vampires in question must be residents of Gravity Falls.”

Dipper’s interest was piqued, despite his sleep deprivation that was bearing down on his ability to process words. He quickly asked, “Why’s that?”

Ford smiled at Dipper’s curiosity, “Ah! Good question, my boy! As you know, vampirism can only be transmitted if exposed repeatedly to vampire DNA. If you were a common living in a small community, frequent attacks on the residents would be disadvantageous to the longevity of your race as more and more people would be converted into fellow vampires, leaving few viable ‘prey’—as we’ll call it—to feed on.

“So, based on this information, we can narrow our list of suspects to the current Gravity Falls residents. Stanley and I have done some scouting in-between your training sessions with us, and we have found two suspects that we think would be at an appropriate level for you two.”

“Wait, do you mean—?” Mabel began to squeal excitedly, as both her and her brother looked up at Ford with expectant, shining eyes.

Ford nods, a smile forming on his face as he proudly announced, “Mabel, Dipper! You have been training hard this past week and a half, and your skills have greatly improved since. Therefore, as vampire hunters in training, you are now qualified to begin your first mission to put your newfound abilities to the test! Well, with my brother’s and my supervision, of course.”

The younger pair of twins glanced at each other, a large grin on both of their faces as the news was music to their ears. They were learning their family’s trade and were nearly full-fledged hunters in just a few weeks’ time!

“Your first objective is to investigate a suspect and confirm if they are a vampire or not,” Ford said as he handed a manila folder to the each of the children. Dipper gingerly took the pale-yellow folder in his hands, gazing at it with awe. “Listed in your folders is the suspect’s known information, ranging from their address to their hobbies. You each have a different person to study, but your method of investigation will be similar.

“First, find their whereabouts and make contact with them. Try to gather as much data as you can during your limited time interacting with them. Usually this tactic wouldn’t be recommended, but since you are young and new to town, they shouldn’t suspect a thing. Stanley and I will also be watching from afar to ensure your safety.”

Dipper glanced over at the documents inside of the folder, curiously scanning the information contained within. He frowned as he squinted at a particular piece of written information and looked back up at Ford with a concerned expression, asking, “What if these suspects… don’t turn out to be vampires?”

“Well, we don’t expect you to find any conclusive evidence today. Vampires are deceptive creatures and will do anything to keep their identity a secret, especially around strangers. Your investigation will continue for a week and, if you still haven’t found anything, then no further action is needed. After all, not all suspects will turn out to be vampires. What matters here is that you will be able to gather information and think like a hunter.”

“Come on, Dipper!” Mabel exclaimed excitedly as she tugged on her brother’s arm, “Don’t look so glum! We’re finally going to go on a mission! Now, let’s go get ready, yeah?” Without giving her brother time to mull over whatever it was he was thinking about, she pulled him towards the stairs.

“Ack, Mabel! Stop dragging me everywhere!” Dipper protested as he reluctantly followed his sister once more. Despite his outward resistance, he couldn’t deny that he felt excited about their first mission, his optimistic expectations quickly overriding whatever worry he had prior if even for a brief moment.

 

Dipper walked up to a small, colorful building in the center of the town. It stood out a little, with its light-teal walls and pink door with a standard brown, wooden roof. Along the nearby glass window, the interior of which was currently covered up by a pair of dark blue satin curtains, the word “Daycare” was painted on it in rainbow colors. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hands and back at the black-painted address number above the door frame a few times to confirm that this was the right location.

He took a deep breath to steady himself as he unconsciously pulled at the red scarf wrapped around his neck which Mabel had insisted he wear to cover up his triangular mark, despite it being summer. _Remember, your enemy is in there_ , he thought to himself as he cautiously rose his hand to the door, almost afraid that this colorful monstrosity would suddenly come to life and bite his hand off. He knocked three timid knocks.

“Come in,” chimed a gentle-sounding female voice from inside.

_Okay, Dipper, you can do this._

Dipper slowly opened the door and peeked his head into the well-lit room.

“Oh, I haven’t seen you before!” said the same voice from earlier. Dipper noticed a slender young woman with semi-curled dirty blonde hair gazing at him with gentle blue eyes. She was seated on a stool beside a baby crib near the wall farthest away from the door. “Did your parents send you here to be watched for a while?” she asked motherly while Dipper shyly stepped inside, gently shutting the garish door behind him. She looked at him up and down quickly and giggled, “You seem a bit… _older_ than my usual guests.”

“U-uh, no, I’m not here to be watched,” the boy coughed, embarrassed, and quickly scanned the room. The interior of the building looked quite cozy and neat. The walls were a soft baby blue with white clouds painted near the ceiling. The carpet was a slate color and plush. A giant toybox lay in the corner, while a giant colorful ABC 1-2-3 rug was in the center of the room beneath a low, circular wooden table surrounded by colorful kiddie chairs. Besides the front entrance, there were two other openings within the building on opposite walls from each other. One was labelled “Bathroom” while the other was labelled “Nap Room.” Everything seemed normal and kid-friendly. “I was just new in town and I wanted to check things out,” he squeaked, his tone near the end of his sentence sounding more like a question than a statement.

The woman laughed and said, “Well, you came at a good time to visit. As you can see, no one else is here except for me and my baby. Oh, and my name is Lynda Wyldehart. You are?”

 _Baby? Can vampires have children?_ He looked at the crib, noticing a small little bundle in the center. “O-oh, I’m sorry,” Dipper said quietly, feeling rude for barging in, “My name’s Dipper.”

“It’s fine, dearie,” she laughed. “My child’s a heavy sleeper. So, what can I help you with?” She smiled, revealing her pearly white teeth. Dipper scrutinized the normal expression, noticing no unnaturally sharp points. _Can vampires hide their fangs?_

So far, she didn’t _seem_ like a vampire… “Just… wanted to get to know the locals a bit more,” Dipper chuckled nervously as he approached an empty stool near her. “Uh, may I?” he asked, looking up at her warily. She nodded as he took a seat.

“Well, there’s not much to me. Just a simple lady with a child running a daycare. I simply adore children, you know? They’re so innocent and full of life and energy… Their imaginations are simply astonishing with how vivid they can be! I’m glad to be given the opportunity to be a part of some of their growing lives,” she sighed happily.

“It sure sounds like you enjoy your job,” Dipper said. She nodded and glanced lovingly at her baby sleeping peacefully in the crib. Dipper stared up at her. She seemed quite happy and looked… pretty normal, really. Nothing about her seemed remotely like a vampire. Ford may have said that they’re tricky creatures who find ways to blend into society, but she looks and acts just like a normal citizen. Could such a kind figure really be something so cruel? He glanced pensively down at the ground, twiddling his thumbs together. From his few encounters with vampires, they all seemed like uncaring, bloodthirsty monsters, so how…?

Lynda glanced over at the solemn boy and quietly spoke, “If you don’t mind me prying… you seem a little sad. Would you like to talk?”

Dipper jolted upright and glanced nervously at the woman. “O-oh, I, uh…” he stuttered, glancing over to the side. True, he had a lot on his mind recently, what with Bill and all. He knew he couldn’t tell his family a single thing about his situation now, but Bill never said he couldn’t tell a stranger, right? She seemed quite caring and, if he had to describe it in another word, seemed quite motherly, and he really wanted to tell someone—anyone—about his problems. She did not seem like his enemy, and he _had_ to get it off his chest, to let _someone_ know, to get advice at last. He took a deep breath and began to speak quietly.

“I… recently met this… person, I guess, earlier this summer. He isn’t really a good person, because he’s been terrorizing me and my sister ever since we accidentally ran into him,” Dipper sighed and instinctively reached up to touch the triangle mark on his neck that had become warmer from the mere thought of Bill. Lynda’s eyes followed curiously to the mark that she could now plainly see. “And he… has done some awful things to me. I don’t like what he does to me, but,” Dipper’s voice began to waver as he struggled to fight back tears, “but my body… likes it. It feels good, but I know I shouldn’t enjoy it. I want it to stop, but I can’t help desiring it, wanting to feel it again, and… and I don’t know what to do.” He began to sob, the tears rolling down his cheeks. His body shivered with raw, no longer contained emotion. “I can’t tell my family, he won’t let me free, and I can’t do anything about it.”

Lynda softened her gaze and hugged the crying boy, holding him close to her warm body. Dipper continued to sniffle and cry into this stranger’s arms, the arms of what could be his enemy, but he couldn’t care less right now. Everything was just too much for him. He wanted to vent, he wanted relief, he wanted answers. He had been acting strong for his family’s sake, but he couldn’t keep up with the charade. Nothing was fine.

Lynda let the brunet release his tears and waited for him to calm down before continuing the conversation. She glanced down at the mark on the boy’s neck one last time before speaking, “Have you ever heard about Sigmund Freud, Dipper?”

Dipper weakly shook his head no.

“This may or may not apply to your situation, but… Freud is a psychoanalyst who came up with the theory that we have three different levels of awarenesses, known as the conscious, the preconscious, and the unconscious. The conscious mind is everything we are aware of, and is the one that allows you to think and talk rationally. The unconscious holds all our hidden emotions, thoughts, and desires that are out of our conscious awareness, but it has a heavy influence on our behaviors.

“Now, don’t take it exactly to heart, but I feel like if Freud has any basis for his many observations, then perhaps you are experiencing a conflict between your conscious mind and unconscious desires. For instance, your head, your conscious mind, is at war with your unconscious bodily needs. It may seem absurd, but I have a feeling that you will be more at ease if you find a way to compromise,” she spoke softly, cradling the delicate child in her arms.

Dipper furrowed his brows as he listened intently, clinging to the words that were his only current source of advice. His body and mind were at war? Conscious versus unconscious? He should find a way to compromise? The whole concept certainly did sound farfetched and a little too hard to believe, but… For some reason, it offered him comfort, a hope in the haze of darkness within his internal turmoils. “How… how will I be able to do that?” he asked through his sniffles.

“I think that is something you will have to think about for now. I do not fully know your situation, so it is not in my position to tell you how best to compromise.”

He lay in her arms for some time, lost in thought as he gradually calmed down. Soon, he wiped away the tears from his eyes and slowly sat back up.

Lynda released the child and smiled tenderly down at him. “I’ll get you a towel,” she said, heading into the bathroom before quickly returning with a small, slightly-damp white towel.

Dipper received the cloth and wiped his face off. He returned it gingerly and smiled. “Thanks, I feel better now,” he said quietly, his voice still a little rough.

“Anytime,” Lynda replied as she retrieved the towel. The bundle in the crib began to move and make some fussy noises. She quickly hunched over the crib and picked it up delicately in her arms, rocking it back and forth lightly. It cooed and giggled in response.

Dipper stood up. “I… I think I should be heading back now,” he said quietly. “Thank you once again, Mrs. Wyldehart,” he nervously said as he walked to the front door.

“Of course, dearie,” Lynda responded, waving briefly. “You can come back anytime if you need someone to talk to!” She smiled.

Dipper returned the smile and nodded before heading out of the little daycare. He felt happier, like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He was glad to have told someone and received some form of advice in return. There was no way that that person, with such kindness and gentleness, could ever be a cruel, heartless, blood-sucking creature.

 

Once the brunet had left her daycare, Lynda pulled out her cellphone from her purse that sat on the ground. She dialed in a number and placed the phone against her ear. A few rings in and she heard the receiver being picked up. “Dear, is that you?” She waited for a reply before she continued, “You will _not_ believe the news I have for you today. I think Lord Cipher has a pet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait on the update! ;w; Thank you so much for waiting patiently for all this time and your constant support. <3 It's not much today, but I guarantee some big stuff will be happening soon!


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